


Doctor Strange: The Eternal Flame

by MoonDash21



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action with plot, Action/Adventure, Angst, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Mystery with Plot, Romance With Plot, Romantic Conflict, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-25 12:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonDash21/pseuds/MoonDash21
Summary: *ON HOLD*Stephen Strange was finally content with his life. Where he stood as a sorcerer and how he helped the world. He had a nice thing going for him. There were no villains to fight, no realities to save, no dimensions to visit. Everything was serenely calm and silent. Until, of course, Wong decides to change his life forever with something he never thought he would need. An apprentice.Samrah has lived in an orphanage her whole life. Always rejected by any family that had any interest in her. Why? Because she had something that scared people and she hated herself for that. But one day that all changes when a strange man shows up and adopts her. His name is even Strange, literally. On top of learning dangerous mystical powers, she has to tackle a new problem she's never experienced in her entire life. School. Oh, and not to mention love.Much to his dismay, Doctor Strange starts to feel an attachment toward his apprentice. One stronger than just mentorship. Strange doesn't think things can get any worse until he notices something about his apprentice. Something so dark not even the Master of the Mystic Arts can tackle alone. Especially when it might cost him everything he loves. Including Samrah...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These notes are actually the Prologue. Sorry, this is so weird, it's really bugging me. Also, there aren't gonna be a lot of tags right now as that would spoil some of the story. It will grow as the story continues which will be a while. Thanks for checking out my story! Now, enjoy!
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> Prologue:
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> I gasped for air as smoke-ravaged my lungs, my eyes burned and stung and watered from the thick fire surrounding my wounded body. I would’ve attempted to get up but I was afraid that she might attack again. Besides, I could barely see through the haze anyway. I coughed roughly, my throat raw and painful from panting. I closed my eyes and let the tears slide down my cheeks. Is this what it was like to die slowly? Like your heart was being torn from the middle of your chest against your will? If this was what it was like to die, then I more than deserved it. 
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> “Look at the renowned Doctor Stephen Strange. Lying on the ground, broken. You’re not that big of a man, now are you?” A voice echoed throughout an empty horizon. I bit my lower lip, forcing myself not to cry anymore. I should be used to this pain… This is why I never wanted to love anyone ever again. Love never did me any good, all it gave me was hurt. “What? Speechless? For once in your life, nothing snappy to say? No name calling? Pitiful.” 
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> It hurt, it hurt so bad. Not my broken arm, not the giant bloody gash on my forehead, not even how my head swirled from dehydration and relentless pounding. It was the way my very soul, my emotional heart was being squeezed again and again. Stabbed relentlessly. Not just because of the speaker's hurtful words, no, if anything those should’ve made me angry. It all depended on the person who said them that made them deadly. And, unfortunately, the person who said them had the most effect on me than anyone in the world. 
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> “I’m sorry…” I wheezed out through my clenched teeth.
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> “What was that?” The voice in the fire snapped. 
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> “I’m sorry,” I said once more, this time with more strength as I worked my elbows to raise myself up from the ground slowly. 
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> “You’re sorry?” 
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> “Yes,” I coughed when my lungs opened up from being held in a closed position for too long. “I’m so very, very sorry.”
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> “For what?”
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> “For ever getting you into this mess. I wish I had never chosen you…” 
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> I stumbled to my feet, swinging my arms around while trying to catch my balance. The Cloak of Levitation helped me to settle down and regain my stature. Glass crunched under my feet and my shoes slipped on pebbles. In the smoky haze, I could see the figure of a female standing upon a large chunk of rubble, her fists clenched and body tense. The flash of fiery irises and pupils that formed into slits stabbed through the smoke. 
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> I prepared myself for the worst and it came like a knife to the heart. 
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> I could feel the anger wafting off of her. The pure hatred and hurt that my words wrought. I meant them, though. If I would never have chosen her, she would be safe, she would be fine. She would be herself. She wouldn’t be destroying everything and everyone she loved. 
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> The magical energy surged and crackled at her fury, the ground beginning to morph and shift below him. I knew what kind of damage she could do when she was angry but never when she was like this. It was a dangerous game I was playing, but I was willing to play it. If it ended this once and for all, it was worth it. The air seemed to close itself around my throat and smoke began to whirl above me like a tornado, whipping my sweat soaked hair around my face. All at once, the feeling in the air became solemn and sad, the figure stepping through the smoke-twister to reveal herself. Her eyes were the most prominent thing about her. They spoke a million words.
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> “I’m sorry, too.” She whispered before I felt a stabbing pain in my head and everything faded down into a murky black abyss.
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I was lost in a swirling world of color and insanity. That’s how dreams normally were. Pointless and abstract, always changing and never the same. Some are beautiful and some are sinister. Some are calm and others are as restless as the sea. Dreams mean nothing, they are only meant to let the mind rest and recuperate after a long day. A way to process things that had happened so the mind could remember them the next day and discard things that were useless. But I’ve been learning new things every day and this was included in the category of dreams.

Prophetic visions in the form of dreams were normal. For me at least, ever since that fateful day on that wretched waste of a planet. Red and barren, as lifeless as my dreams. Like the one I was having right now. It was odd and totally random. Working at a fast food restaurant had never been my  _ dream _ , let’s say, but my actual dreams had other plans in store for me tonight. Even though this dream was repetitive and annoying, I decided not to disturb it or myself. Sleeping felt good, no matter how stupid the dream was. 

Unfortunately, I couldn’t control what was outside my dream during slumber. So, of course, some rude master of annoyance would come and wake me up. What else was I to expect? All good things never last forever, no matter how long they last to start with. Something bad will always happen. Whether it includes a nagging voice or poking. Something will always ruin peace eventually. 

“Strange.” 

There it was, the voice, the peace ruiner. 

“Strange.” 

I became extremely irritated. This voice was destroying the dream restaurant, making it crack and wiggle. The foundation was morphing in giant waves, trying to fade into black. I wouldn’t let it. As much as I hated working there I refused to give it up. So I created a giant shield of sparkling light that pressed in the walls of my dream, keeping me inside and asleep. 

“Stephen!” 

The walls, despite my desperate attempts, shattered into oblivion and my eyes cracked open to white darkness. I could feel the sheets around my body and my mind slowly processed the feeling of a bed. I groaned.  _ Well, there goes my paycheck… _

“Go away,” I grumbled, my voice scratchy from lack of use. I didn’t want to get up and the person trying to wake me up was being a problem. I had half a mind to wake up for five seconds just to slap them. But I knew that would get me nowhere because they’d just slap me back. 

“Stephen Strange. You’ve slept in long enough. It’s almost eight in the morning. Get up!” 

“Wong!” I shouted into my pillow. “You sound like my mother… Leave me alone.” 

“No,” Wong replied bluntly, yanking the sheets from me. “We have to talk.” 

“Can’t we do that later...?” I shivered as cold air smacked my body like a tidal wave. Goosebumps formed on my skin and I roared in frustration, lifting my head from the pillow to blindly find the blankets that were stolen from me. When I couldn’t find them I sat up and crossed my legs, glaring at my mentor. He was dressed already. Standing with his hands held behind his back and his deep eyes locked on mine. I hate it when he does this. Wong never lets me sleep past eight. I haven’t decided yet if that’s a good or a bad thing. No, it’s  _ definitely _ a bad thing. 

“No. Sorcerer Supreme never sleeps.” He said, turning around and leaving me in my room. He shut the door and I gritted my teeth in frustration. 

“Too bad I’m not Sorcerer Supreme!” I shouted loud enough so he could hear me through the door. I waited in silence for his response, if he would even respond at all. 

“Stop being a grouch, Strange,” Wong called out from far away rather calmly. I grumbled and swung my legs off the bed, my feet finding the soft fabric of the bed sheets. I tore them off the ground and tossed them back on the bed. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, trying to get my body in working condition. Something told me today was going to be a rough and taxing one. 

I stumbled over to the long and heavy curtains that covered my window. I swung them open and let the new morning light spill out across the hard wooden floor. The light filled the room, exposing dressers, desks, and drawers filled with clothes. My room was rather large, like most of the rooms in the Sanctum, there was a walk-in closet and a bathroom inside. This room was the largest, which had been used by all the Masters that used to protect the New York Sanctum. 

“I can’t believe he woke me up again,” I complained to myself as I walked over to get my clothes. “He never lets me sleep in. Sometimes he can be such a big a—“ I glanced to my right and noticed the Cloak of Levitation floating near my dresser drawers. The way it was flying made me feel judged. I pointed a finger and huffed. “Don’t look at me like that! He can!”

I got pants to the face in response. 

I slid open my shirt drawer and pulled out a grey t-shirt. It was cheap and probably from Walmart but none of us had a real job to pay for anything not from Walmarts clearance aisle. There was no way to earn money. 

If being poor wasn’t bad enough, Tony Stark, for some odd and irritating reason, had found it in his  _ heart  _ to make Wong and I a charity case. Every month we received about ten thousand dollars to get us through. Wong appreciates the ‘kind’ gesture while I find it quite annoying. I don’t need his help. Never have, never will. 

While I got dressed, the Cloak of Levitation made my bed. I didn’t know why it did this in the morning but it seemed to enjoy doing it. While I was normally a tidy person, my room never had anything out of place, thanks to the Cloak. Once I was dressed, it rested on my shoulders where it normally was. I didn’t mind, it was better this way. It made me feel powerful, not just plain old Doctor Stephen Strange. 

Just as I was about to open the door I noticed something felt different about me. I felt, more warm and comfortable. Perhaps today was going to go out good for me. I think this is the feeling of victory, a sign that whatever was to come I could face it steadfast with bravery! I was brave, I was powerful…! Until I suddenly realized that only one part of my body felt this way. I looked down and my face flushed with embarrassment. My fluffy pink, flannel pajama pants were still on and I was wearing my slippers. I shifted suddenly uncomfortable now. 

I had forgotten to put on the pants… It felt like the Cloak was laughing at me as I stumbled to put on the pants. I gave it a gentle slap to get it to stop. My face was already as red as it was… 

I opened my door and made my way to the first floor where the dining room and kitchen were located. I could’ve teleported myself there but I felt like walking down to it today. Sometimes one had to slow down to notice something they had never seen before. Life can’t always go in a blur. If it does, it all ends too soon. Might as well make the blurs last longer to appreciate what you might not have for long. 

The kitchen smelled like pancakes, coffee, and fresh tea. The dining room table was lined with plates, forks, knives, and spoons. A simple syrup pitcher in the middle with a stack of napkins. The table was big, big enough to sit about fifteen people. It was long and dark, polished and shiny. The chairs were made of the same wood and crimson pillows lined with gold made the seats. It looked like a dining room fit to serve royalty and perhaps it had one day a long time ago. 

Wong entered from the kitchen holding a plate with a stack of steaming pancakes, two floating mugs, and two pitchers. One was filled with the black liquid of coffee and the with other hot green tea. He set them all down on the table. 

“Took you long enough,” Wong said, taking a seat and using his fork to take a pancake. 

“Did you make these?” I asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down. 

Wong smiled and chuckled. “Of course not. Ms. Palmer assisted me.” 

I paused for a moment, my heart halting in my chest. “Christine was here?” I asked, trying to keep my face an emotionless rock. I reached over for a pancake and a mug of tea. 

Wong nodded. “She comes here often in the mornings.”

“And you don’t get me up?” I questioned, pouring syrup of my pancake. 

“No, it’s hard enough as it is to wake you up.” He replied. “She often tells me not to anyway.” 

My shoulders slumped. “She does?” 

“Yes. She says, ‘Don’t want to ruin his beauty sleep’.” 

I smirked. “How kind of her. At least someone cares about my amount of rest.” I took a bite of the pancake and I sighed in remorse. It tasted like pancakes made by her. I missed Christine… It had been so long since I had last seen her. We were just both so busy. When I was free from saving reality, she was busy in the ER. When she was free, I was off fighting some maniac demon. I remembered when she would come early in the morning on weekends. The weekends I would stay up late and sleep in past ten. She would always hang around my apartment and make breakfast. I didn’t truly appreciate it then but now… It felt like a possibility I’d probably never have again. I was too busy to appreciate her then and I was too busy to now. Remember what I said about slowing down? Maybe I should take my own advice.

“It certainly has been very slow these past few days…” I pointed out. “Maybe I should visit her.” 

Wong took a bite and chewed before answering. “Perhaps, but you’ll be busy I’m afraid.” 

“With what exactly?” I scoffed. “We haven’t had a huge problem in weeks. Sure, there’s the occasional fool but those are very easy to eradicate.” 

“Yes, but I felt like you should have something more important to do. That's what I wanted to talk to you about this morning.” 

I furrowed my brows and cut a piece of the golden brown pancake and placed it in my mouth, chewing slowly and looking up at Wong so he knew he had my full attention. 

“I think you’re ready.” He said as he took a sip of his drink. 

I closed my eyes and took a deep and calming breath. If he was going to bring up Sorcerer Supreme again I was going to leave and eat in my room for a month. I’m really fed up with all the chat about Sorcerer Supreme. I didn’t want to be Sorcerer Supreme! Honestly, Master Hamir was a better candidate than I. I knew we needed one to restore the balance but it wasn’t going to be me. I was just fine and happy with Master of the Mystic Arts. Wait… Okay, maybe that title makes others think I should be Sorcerer Supreme but I’ve said no at least ten times. Wong knows how I feel about it so he shouldn’t bring it up anymore. 

“I know what you’re thinking and it’s not about that,” Wong reassured. 

“Good, because I was going to leave ” I said, stabbing the fork into the food. 

“Stop acting like a child for a few seconds so I can explain,” Wong demanded. “I want you to train your own apprentice.” 

I choked on my pancake and coughed. I had to take a drink of my tea to keep myself from suffocating. I wiped my mouth with a napkin and did not look up at Wong. I know he’s taught me all he can but I wanted a chance to learn on my own too. An apprentice would just drag me down in my studies. Why in the world would he want me to have an apprentice? I might accidentally kill it. 

“I know it’s asking a lot but I do believe you are ready. You’ve been Master of the Mystic Arts for two years. I think it’s about time you share that mastery with someone else other than yourself. I wouldn’t ask this of you if you weren’t ready.” 

“You can’t be serious. Wong, I’m not a teacher, I’m barely a good learner.” I explained, there had to be a way to get out of this. The last thing I needed now was an apprentice. 

“You teach yourself just fine. It’s about time you get out of that shell of yours anyway.” 

“I don’t have a shell,” I said, crossing my arms. 

“You do,” Wong said, leaving no room for arguing. “I’ve made up my mind and you’re getting an apprentice. I’m not letting you wiggle your way out of this one.” 

I went silent, suddenly no longer hungry. I was frustrated. I didn’t want an apprentice, I didn’t ask for one. Where would we even find one anyway? Just go up to some random person and ask them if they wanted to learn magic? It was a little absurd. Now my plans to slow down and take a break were crumbling to ash. So much for that idea, now I’d have to go back to living life in a blur. 

“Well, we better get going,” Wong said, piling up his empty plate with my full one.

“Why?” 

Wong picked up the pitcher and set it on his stack of plates. “Why do you think?” 

I gritted my teeth. “Let’s get it over with.” 

***

“Another orphanage?!” I gasped. I rubbed two fingers on the bridge nose, trying not to let him see that he got to me. I turned my face into a wall of nothing so that he couldn’t see anything else that may entitle him to watch the agony of this certain predicament. Instead, I decided to size up the building. It was tall, maybe about five stories. The walls were cracking and the brick foundation was barely intact. There were old shudders on the side of the windows. Each window hid the inside from the outside world by a single white curtain. The surrounding sidewalks were about as cracked as the walls of the orphanage. There was an old and creaky sign out front reading ‘Oakley Orphanage’. 

“Yes, another orphanage. You turned down all of the other ones and this was my last option.” Wong said, approaching the front door. He knocked on it and it opened. A woman well past her prime answered it. She was holding a toddler in her arms, the toddler was sucking his thumb and staring at me intently with deep emerald eyes. Wong and the woman shook hands, exchanged words, and then entered the orphanage. I took a deep breath and shoved my hands into my sweater pocket, trying to fight off the coming winter’s cold and perhaps the hide realization that I’m nervous because my palms were sweating.

The inside of the orphanage was all I expected to be. Crammed, stuffy, loud, and filled with children of all ages. There were teenagers typing on their phones, ten-year-olds watching cartoons, and the younger children running around playing some form of tag. There were couches, sofas, wooden chairs, and coffee tables littering the first floor of the orphanage. There were few windows so not a lot of natural light lit up the place. It was similar to the Sanctum but it gave off more of a vicious and cold feeling. One that couldn’t be generated by magical wards. I didn’t like this place, so the faster we got out of here, the better I would feel. 

I sped up to walk beside Wong, I stared ahead and tried to not look at the orphanage any further. Out of all the ones we had seen, this one made me the most uncomfortable. The previous five that we went to were much more calm, clean, and modern. All of the children were nice but I turned them all down. I had gotten a few jabs in the ribs because of that and they actually still hurt. Maybe, just maybe, I’d give the children here a chance. If none of them worked, then we were going home and forgetting this whole idea. I didn’t tell Wong this but I’m a grown man and I make my own decisions. 

“So, Mister Strange, what child were you thinking of adopting?” The woman asked, her voice worn from age and probably a lot of shouting at children. 

I answered her like I answered all of the other people. “A child between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. The gender does not matter.” 

The woman sighed. “Okay, sir. We have five children meeting your specifications.” She set the young toddler down into the hands of a young girl who took him by the hand and ran away making obnoxious laughter. “Right this way, sirs.” She opened up a single wooden door. I stepped inside and my skin crawled beneath my hoodie. The room was small, only big enough to probably squeeze in six adults. There was a single plastic table covered in crayon markings in the middle and three wooden chairs. There was another door on the opposite side of the room. There   no windows and the only light came from a small lamp on the table. 

I shivered and sat down in one of the chairs. It squealed under my weight and I almost jumped out my skin. Wong smiled slightly and shook his head as he took a seat. The woman retired out of the opposite door and left Wong and me in an uncomfortable silence. I didn’t say anything to him because I knew I would argue. Also, this room reminded me more of a place where interrogations happened. 

The other door creaked open and a young boy entered the room. She was plugging her nose and I wondered why— 

_ Good heavens! _

I held my breath as a smell as nasty as a slobbering troll entered the room. The boy was chewing gum and staring dumbly at me. I forced a smile on my face but it felt and looked utterly fake. The boy merely crossed his arms and stood while the old woman closed the door. I studied this boy and came to the conclusion that he has terrible hygiene. He had zits covering his face like hot and red craters on the moon. His hair was disgustingly greasy and shiny. He made the room smell like dead fish and I had to repeatedly keep myself from gagging. We glared at each other for a while until I decided to ask the questions and get this interview over with. 

“How old are you—?” He cut me off with a smack of his gun and coughed. 

“Aren’t you going to ask my name first?” 

I was afraid of taking a calming breath lest it be my last. So I clenched the jean of pants tightly. “I can go in any order I please. Answer my question.” 

“Not until you ask my name, prat.” 

I looked up at the woman. “Get. Him. Out.” 

The woman nodded hastily and shoved the boy out. 

“It was nice meeting you.” The boy called sarcastically. 

“Too bad the feeling isn’t mutual.” I snapped. The door shut and I quickly used magic to make the room smell like refreshing vanilla. I drank in the fragrance and allowed myself to breathe normally. Okay, one down, four more to go. I couldn’t help but let a satisfied smirk cross my face. The boy had made the decision so much easier than I had anticipated. 

I caught Wong’s glare and I flinched, ready for another elbow to the ribs. Luckily, it didn’t come and I relaxed. 

The next child was a female. She was extremely formal, wearing probably the best clothing she had. She had red glasses and chocolate colored skin. Her back was straight and she looked at me with a level gaze. She looked respectful, mature, and studious. Maybe if we got someone like her I would be a little more accepting of an apprentice. 

She sat down and folded her arms in front of her. 

“Hello, what is your name?” I asked. 

“My name is Cecile Carter. What is yours?” She asked politely. 

“My name is Stephen Strange.” 

Cecile’s eyes widened. “No way! You’re Doctor Stephen Strange? The neurosurgeon?” She leaned forward, obviously interested in my answer

I felt my pride rising in my chest. I forgot how good it felt to be recognized for something that I did. “Yes, I am.” 

“Oh my gosh. I am such a huge fan. Your work is amazing. I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you.” Cecile gasped, reaching over to shake my hand quite roughly. I laughed slightly and shot a smug look at Wong, he crossed his arms. What was his problem? I liked her already and was interested in asking her questions. 

“Do you believe in magic?” He said bluntly. 

Cecile paused. Then she laughed out loud. She slapped her knee and wiped forming tears from her eyes. I was tense and my face was unreadable. I knew what Wong was doing. He didn’t like this girl and wanted to scare her off. Oh no, he was not taking the one decent kid all day off my hands. Especially one that actually seemed to like me. 

“Of course not!” She answered Wong. “What a ridiculous question! Oh, Doctor Strange, your friend is quite the comedian.” 

“Yeah, he really is.” I snarled. 

“I wasn’t kidding.” Wong stared. 

I decided to jab him in the ribs this time. He didn’t move or even register it. Cecile just stared at me. I so badly wanted to deny it but something kept me from saying both that I was the master of it and saying that I had no idea what he was talking. Cecile was looking at me hopefully, perhaps pondering if I was crazy or not. She leaned back and glanced at the old woman. 

“Mrs. Wathson,” Cecile said quietly. “I think I’m ready to go.” 

Mrs. Wathson took Cecile out and she gave me a longing look before shutting the door. 

“What the heck, Wong! That was the one kid I’ve actually liked all day!” I shouted. 

“You wouldn’t have been good for each other,” Wong said plainly, he straightened himself and continued. “She would’ve fed your ego and made you reckless.” 

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. She would feed my pride and make me want to prove myself in things I don’t quite understand yet. I’ve been getting better with the amount of arrogance I had but it still came back to bite. I’ve learned that there are times when confidence and pride are needed and when they are not. I knew that this was probably the best time to set it aside, actually consider the next three children and maybe this would be over quickly. 

As a matter of fact, it did go quickly. The next children were all crappy and terrible. Yes, and no, I’m not exaggerating. Even Wong thought they were horrible. I stretched out my back and checked my watch. It was five in the afternoon so we had been here for about two hours. I was mentally exhausted and ready to go back to the Sanctum. 

Mrs. Wathson entered the room and clapped her hands. “Well, looks like you boys are all done. Thank you for coming and have a great rest of your day.” 

I got up and shook her hand. “No, thank you, it was a pleasure meeting you. I guess we’ll just be on our way—“ 

“Wait.” Wong interrupted. We both looked at him for an explanation to his interruption. “We only saw four.” 

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Wathson asked sweetly. 

“You said there were five options. We have only seen four. Show us the fifth.” 

Mrs. Wathson’s eyes clouded with darkness and her hand felt cold against my skin. I shivered nervously under her hold and let go of her hand. She was glaring intently at Wong and she was now frowning. Was it just me or did the room seem to dim and get colder? Something wasn’t right and I was prepared for anything, already reaching into my magical stores to blast her away if she morphed into something dangerous.

“I’m sorry.”’She grumbled. “I’m afraid there are only four. I must have made a mistake.” 

“No, you were very sure of the number before. Show us the fifth.” He said sharply. 

I saw her fists tighten and her knuckles were becoming white. I cleared my throat and shattered then hostile silence between the two. 

“Wong, it’s obvious she doesn’t have a fifth. Let’s just leave.” I said, trying to hide the hostility in my voice. This woman was making me nervous and on edge. I saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice. There was something or someone she didn’t want us to see. The more I thought about it the more curious I became. What would an old helpless woman like her be hiding in this dump of an orphanage? Was it dangerous? Were  _ they  _ dangerous? 

“No. We are not leaving until we see the fifth.” Wong kept his face unreadable and cold. I knew he could be about as stubborn as me so when he said we wouldn’t be leaving until saw the fifth, he meant it. “I want to see her.” 

Mrs. Wathson’s eyes narrowed and she turned on her heel and stomped out the door. 

“How did you know it was a she?” I asked Wong. His shoulders relaxed into his chair and he held his hands in his lap. 

“I didn’t.” He replied. 

“Then why did you say—?” She door opened and I shut my mouth. 

Ever so slowly, a foot stepped through the door. Then a hand, then a leg, and finally the head. I cocked my head and surveyed the young girl who slowly and shyly walked in through the door. Her head was hung low, her deep black hair covering her eyes. Actually, her eyes were covered by sunglasses, I couldn’t see them. She had most of her hair tied up in a ponytail slung over her left shoulder. She had full and luscious bangs covering her forehead. She didn’t look very tall. Maybe about five foot four. 

My heartbeat quickened as the stuffy room became… no longer small and stuffy. Well, it was still small but the air seemed to hum with some sort of energy. It made my entire being feel alive and pulsing with warmth. The girl took a seat, her face still shrouded in the shadow of her hair. Something about this girl worked off my edge. I wasn’t angry or annoyed at being dragged here, actually, I felt quite calm and gentle at the moment. Which was  _ strange _ , for lack of a better word. The Mrs. Wathson stepped in behind the girl and shut the door quietly, as if not to scare her off. 

I leaned forward in my seat and pursed my lips. I spoke softly to her as if I were afraid that any sudden noise would make her run away. “Hello, what’s your name?” 

I sat in silence for a while and the woman had to intervene to get the girl to speak. “Go on, tell the nice man your name.” Her voice was not the tone I would’ve used 

“S-Samrah…” She said quietly. 

The name sent immediate electricity through my spine. I tried to look at her eyes but I noticed the film of the sunglasses were very dark. But I could feel her gaze lingering upon mine and it sent goosebumps down my arms. I wondered why she needed to wear the glasses. She was inside anyway. Perhaps her eyes were sensitive to light? If that was the case then she probably couldn’t learn magic. The bright and erratic sparks of energy would probably hurt her eyes but I knew I should ask anyway.

“Why do you wear sunglasses inside?” Wong asked before I could. 

The girl shuffled her feet and was about to reply when Mrs. Wathson cut her off. 

“Oh, she’s blind. She can’t see and she doesn’t like people staring at her when she can’t see them.” She said quickly. 

I frowned. I locked my blue eyes with the girls and she seemed to quiver underneath them. She could definitely see me. She wasn’t blind. There was something odd about this situation. Why did the Mrs. Wathson lie to us? What did she have to hide? 

“Oh no,” I said sternly. “She can see me alright. I’m not stupid.” My eyes hardened as I glared into her sharp gaze. Mrs. Wathson shifted uncomfortably and gulped. 

I looked back to the girl who seemed tense and ready to bolt. My calmness and softness returned and I reached out a shaking hand to hers. I laid it on her skin and she flinched but then settled into the tiny warm embrace. She looked up at me again and seemed to understand what I wanted from her. She used her other hand to slowly pull her glasses off. Mrs. Wathson, behind her, sucked in a breath as they slid down the girl's nose. When they were fully off her eyelids were shut. Her hand was shaking beneath me so I gave her an encouraging squeeze. She took a deep and channeling breath and opened her eyes.

I held back a gasp when I fell into a deep abyss of fiery madness. Her eyes were like a candle flame, burning with power and yet having a sweetness to it. They were sharp but kind. Calculating but understanding. Her eyes were a million things tossed into red, orange, and yellow irises. The girl seemed to be extremely nervous as I studied her eyes. They reminded me of the circular ring of sparks that was generated when using a sling ring to make a portal. They really did seem almost magical. That’s when I noticed and realized the whole room was truly alive. I could feel the mystical potential pouring off of her, almost like I was drowning in it. 

I glanced over at Wong and he gave me a subtle nod to say he felt it too. 

“We’ll take her,” I said finally. 

The woman looked like she was almost ready to faint but she quickly regained her composure and took the girl by the arm. She yanked her out of the chair and turned to me with fury in her eyes. 

“Actually, she’s  _ not  _ up for adoption.” The woman started to tug the girl out of the room and the girl almost looked like she didn’t want to go. Her eyes were pleading at me to stop the woman. “Come on, Samrah. Let’s go back to your room.”

“Oh no.” I snapped, getting up from my chair. “We’ll  _ take  _ her off of your hands.” I took the other girls arm gently. The woman began to tug harder and surprisingly started to pull me and the girl toward the door. 

“Trust me. She’s a handful.” The woman hissed. 

I yanked the girl's arm back so sharply she was torn from the woman’s grip. The girl collided into my chest and I wrapped my arms around her protectively. I wrinkled my nose and glared at the woman. She returned the glare with much more iciness than I. 

“Trust  _ me _ ,” I spat. “We can handle it. Besides, if she’s such a big issue for you then you won’t mind giving her up.” 

The woman snorted and gave up our glaring contest and crossed her arms. “Okay sir, but let me tell you something.” She sauntered up to me so that our faces were inches apart. I gazed deep into her old and withered green eyes and stood my ground. There was no way I was letting this poor girl stay here any longer with this witch. I had made up my mind and I wasn’t going anywhere without the girl. “They always bring her back.” she turned away from me to walk out the door. “Always.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so just a heads up. This takes place after Infinity War. I was a little too upset when they decided to kill off my two favorite characters when I JUST STARTED LIKING MARVEL. Also, I'm trying to leave this as spoiler-free as possible, even if the movie has been out for like two months. I have no clue if Doctor Strange ended up becoming the Sorcerer Supreme in Infinity War so I'll leave it at he's not. 
> 
> Anyway, I have no idea if all of the unfortunate casualties of Thanos' snap survive past the next movie so by the time I probably finish this book I'll have to do some last minute editing. Yay... Or maybe I'll just have to say it's an AU story! I'd hate to do that... ESPECIALLY IF THEY KILL OFF THE ONLY CHARACTERS I LIKE!! >:(
> 
> Okay, sorry. I'm chill now. I hope you enjoy this little fanfiction! I'm hoping chapter 2 will be up soon estimated by how large the first chapter was, which is actually really small for me. Also, just for a little clarification. First person is always going to be Stephen's perspective and third person might change between any character I choose to use.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sir—Stephen?”
> 
> I paused midway and looked back at Samrah. She gazed at me calmly with her fire-like eyes. She blinked slowly and held her hands in front of her, rocking back and forth shyly.
> 
> “Thank you…”
> 
> I titled my head. “For what?”
> 
> “For giving me a home.”
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the re-write of the second chapter! Hope you guys enjoy!! The third chapter should be out by Friday. Thanks to all of you who have stuck around to read this story! I know it's going a little slow now but the plot will speed up, I promise.

The walk back home was silent. As silent as the dead of night even though the sun had not set. Everyone seemed too afraid to speak. Almost as if speaking would undo everything that had happened today. I never said a word because no one else did. Samrah was especially silent. Her breathing was silent, her walking was silent. She certainly was the master of being silent. If I didn’t know better I would say she was trying her best to hide from me. That was pretty hard for her to do considering I could sense the energy of all living things.

She didn’t have much with her to carry. Actually, she didn’t have anything at all. Her hands were empty. The only thing she had besides her clothes was a necklace with a gorgeous ring around her neck. It was dotted with extravagant rubies and was a beautiful deep gray. It bounced against her chest strung up by a golden chain. I had no idea why it looked extremely familiar but I couldn’t quite where I had seen it. On an ad? Maybe…

“Where did you get that necklace?” I asked. “It’s very beautiful.”

Samrah looked down and fingered the ring around her neck. “I don’t know. I’ve always had it with me. Ever since they found me as an infant.”

“An infant?” Wong asked, jumping into our newfound conversation.

“Yes, sir,” She replied softly. “I was found in the woods of Colorado. I’ve always had this. Even if the ring doesn’t fit I still like to have it around. I always felt like it was there for a reason.”

I nodded but I was surprised. Had they found her as an infant in the woods? How was that even possible? Why would someone give birth to a baby and just leave them in the wilderness? I suddenly realized it was a miracle she was alive. A toddler out in the forest stood no chance against a predator but an infant? Samrah was very lucky that someone found her.

I knew Wong was thinking the same thing because his eyes were unmoving as he stared into the distance. Samrah was thinking too. I didn’t know what she was thinking but she looked like the kind of person who stared out a window and pondered life’s mysteries.

The air was beginning to chill as the time drew nearer for the sun to set. It was only about five in the evening and the sun wouldn’t set till eight but as winter approached, the days and nights would cool. Snow would replace rain and dress the sidewalks with crystal powder. Winter was one of my least favorite seasons but I still couldn’t deny it’s serene beauty. Also, winter marked a holiday that everyone took off to celebrate. Even though it was around two months away it still gave everyone who was working or in school a time to take a break. Speaking of school…

“Samrah, how old are you?” I asked.

“Fifteen. I’ll be sixteen in November.” She said quietly.

“So, you’ll be a Sophomore this year,” I noted.

“Sir, what is that?” She asked.

“A Sophomore.” I replied. She looked up at me with her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. She had insisted on wearing the glasses before leaving the orphanage. I was okay with that. Even though her unique eye color did not bother me, it would bother someone else. Some walking civilian would spot her and identify her as a threat. Normal or even in the superhero category. Either way, I didn’t want Stark and his band of supers riding my butt about an innocent girl who was thought to be an alien or something. Tony gave me enough crap about my ‘work’ I would not add Samrah to that list.

While my mind had wandered off, Samrah was still confused. I realized I had not fully answered her question and decided to elaborate further.

“Sophomore is a grade in high school.” I clarified.

“Oh,” she said, looking away. “I’ve never been to school.”

“Never?”

“No, the orphanage only had enough to send a few. They wouldn’t let me go because I was a freak.” She adjusted her sunglasses and sighed.

For some reason, this made my heart squeeze a little bit. Samrah wasn’t a freak, at least not by my standards. Her eyes were just a different color, a better color, a mystical color. I still couldn’t get over them. Every time I looked into her eyes it was like I was bathing in magical energy. It felt good, actually. It was rejuvenating and interesting. I liked it.

“You’re not a freak Samrah. You’re just different and that’s okay with us. Right, Wong?” I nudged him so he could help me encourage her. I wasn’t used to being so encouraging. Mostly I gave people the cold hard facts about their measly existence. I was no cookie cutter and sometimes I resented that. Other times, people just need to hear the truth, no matter how painful.

He nodded which wasn’t being helpful at all. I cocked an eyebrow and he got the message immediately.

“Yes, you’re very unique and special. I can already tell.” Wong said kindly.

Samrah’s face was unreadable. Was she happy, angry, confused? It looked like she didn’t know how to take a compliment. Her pathetic stature gave me another annoying pang in the heart. What was it about Samrah that made me feel sentimental and protective. The words I had spoken to Mrs. Wathson definitely didn’t sound like how I had been feeling before. When Samrah came in I wanted her. She not like the other children. That scared and excited me at the same time. I didn’t want this but here I was wanting _her_ , and I had only just met her. What was wrong with me? This day was not going my way.

“We won’t be getting out much either so you don’t have to worry about that,” Wong added in.

Samrah’s shoulders seemed to slump. It was almost as if the thought of being kept in the Sanctum upset her. Maybe because of the certain circumstances at the orphanage she didn’t like being cooped up in a room all day. I wouldn’t blame her.

“We’ll go out sometimes,” I interjected. Her posture brightened up a bit and she let out a happy sigh. That made me relieved because even I wanted to get out a little bit. The Sanctum was great and all but a good walk around New York city never hurt anyone.

We had finally approached the Sanctum in all its glory. Gleaming against a sapphire sky the weathered copper roofs made it seem almost as glorious as the Statue of Liberty. Perhaps the Sanctum should be marveled like the statue. The Sanctum actually protected the world from inter dimensional threats while the Statue of Liberty just stood there for tourists to snap pictures of. Don’t get me wrong, the Statue of Liberty is extremely important and should be revered as a symbol of friendship and hope and freedom but the Sanctum should be too. Or at least, in my mind, I thought it should be. I wouldn’t enjoy the idea of tourists swarming my home. That made me want to cringe.

Like every time we approached the Sanctum, I did a quick mystical scan for threats or eavesdroppers. I knew that the Sanctum looked pretty normal but I still didn’t want people to see anything they’re not supposed to. I also did the check to see if anything had somehow passed the Sanctum’s wards. I have had multiple things and people crash through my roof recently.

I took a deep breath and slowly spread out my magical reach. My consciousness spilled into dark corners, identifying any living thing within a thousand foot radius of the Sanctum. My mind sensed insects, small rodents, and people far away but no one near the Sanctum except me, Samrah, Wong, and…. My skin prickled as a faint but noticeable figure entered my scan. It was hidden and small, I had barely caught it. Someone was watching, waiting. I couldn’t tell where, something was messing up my reading but the sensation felt familiar. I had only felt it one and it was in the midst of pain filled fear—

“Hello, Mister Doctor Strange!” A young voice called up above me higher. I groaned and looked on top of the Sanctum. The person on the roof was Stark’s kid. Peter Parker or Spider-Man as he liked to be called in the red onesie. I didn’t know what he wanted and I definitely didn’t care. All I cared about was if Stark followed. I didn’t feel like having a houseguest.

He was in a crouched position, waving one hand ecstatically. He _was_ wearing the red onesie so I knew what name he would like to be called by. Peter stopped waving and cocked his head, the technology of his spider-like eyes enlarging and retracting. Almost like the focusing lense of a camera.

“Whatcha doin'?” He called down, waving a hand.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I demanded.

“Nah,” Peter replied. “I’m super bored and thought I’d pay you a visit!”

“How did you know this was where I lived?” I questioned.

“Mr. Stark gave me the address.”

I grumbled. _Fantastic. I suppose hot-shot thinks he can give out people’s personal information. Next time he drops by I’ll give him a piece of my mind._

“Do you mind if I come in?” He asked.

“Yes, I mind. I’m not up for visitors today,” I said, pulling Samrah gently to the front door.

“Then who’s that?” The kid asked, pointing at Samrah.

I clacked my teeth together and glared at the teenager. He flinched under my stare but didn’t ask any further questions. He got the message I was conveying and nodded. “Well, I’ll see ya around!” Peter held out his gloves hand and shot a web, slingshotting into the distant buildings of brick and glass. My tense and uncomfortable position relaxed and I rolled my eyes. Hopefully, he _wouldn’t_ come back anytime soon. Peter was a gem and nice kid but he was known to talk way too much and I like my silence. Hopefully, this didn’t become a normal thing for him.

Samrah was staring at the place where Spider-Man had been until I gently tapped her shoulder and opened the large ebony double doors to the Sanctum. She stepped in and turned slowly in a circle, taking in her surroundings. The Sanctum was a rather large place, I even got lost sometimes. Apparently, there were three stories but the outside showed only two. That was the perk of living in magical architecture. The Sanctum was even bigger than it was on the outside. Wider. More hallways than I could have ever imagined. I was pretty sure there were even places in the Sanctum I hadn’t been to yet. Doors that led to places untold of. Even though I’ve been living in the Sanctum for about two years it still continued to surprise me.

“You live in a mansion?” Samrah asked quietly, her tiny voice not even invoking a slight echo against the dark mahogany walls.

“Not a mansion,” I corrected. “It’s called a Sanctum, okay?”

“Okay.” She repeated. “Sir…”

As respectful as she was I couldn’t let her keep calling me sir. It had a nice ring to it but I was going to be her mentor and guardian. A casual name suited the situation.

“You don’t have to call me sir,” I said softly, bending down to pull off her sunglasses and let her eyes shine. “Stephen will do just fine. Most people address me as Doctor Strange but you’re living here.” She nodded and glanced away from me. I sighed and took her hand gently. “I’ll show you your room.” I led her up the stairs, making sure to tell her each hallway and staircase she had to go through to make it to the living quarters.

Her room was on the second floor, a few doors down from mine so she’d be able to access it quickly. I opened the door and introduced her to where she would be living for her time with me.

Samrah slowly walked in and let go of my hand. She patted her bed which was just covered by a grey sheet. Her room was rather large, almost as big as mine. She had a large two-pane window with black lace curtains. There was a small bookshelf in the far corner and a little desk underneath the window so she could read in sun or moonlight if she pleased. Other than that it was very bare. It had the normal room things like a dresser and a lamp but it had no flare, nothing that screamed ‘this is a girls room!’.

I bit my lip and started to feel rather guilty. I hadn’t thought about preparing for her arrival. We just signed the papers and left. I’d have to talk to Wong about getting her something to put in the room. Or perhaps I’d let her choose.

I clapped my hands and cleared my throat, noticing how long the silence stretched. “Well, I guess I’ll just let you get settled. You have your own separate bathroom in here so you can shower or whatever. I’ll talk to my friend about maybe getting you something else to put in your room.” I glanced at the empty drawers. “And maybe some more clothes…” I turned on my heel and took the knob of the door and opened it.

“Sir—Stephen?”

I paused midway and looked back at Samrah. She gazed at me calmly with her fire-like eyes. She blinked slowly and held her hands in front of her, rocking back and forth shyly.

“Thank you…”

I titled my head. “For what?”

“For giving me a home.”

I blinked and then smiled, opening the door all the way and shutting it behind me. I heaved out a long and heavy breath, my knees feeling like jello. Why was talking to Samrah so exhausting? I pushed myself off the door and teleported myself to Wong’s location. He was in the Sanctum’s library and he didn’t even flinch when I suddenly appeared in front of him. He glanced sideways at me before pulling a book off the shelf and wiping a film of dust from it.

“So, how’d it go?” He asked, flipping through the pages.

“Okay, I suppose,” I replied, sinking into a wooden chair at a table. “I still think this is a horrible idea.”

“She seems like a nice girl. Quiet and respectful too.” He said, ignoring my comment.

I pressed two fingers to the bridge of my nose. “You’re not listening to me…”

“With some training, she’ll be a powerful sorcerer,” Wong said, ignoring me again.

“I don’t think you heard me the first time.” I snapped. “This. Is. A. Horrible. Idea.”

“She’s not that bad.” Wong sighed.

“No! But it’ll get worse! When I heard you say ‘apprentice’ I thought we were going to find an adult. Not some child! She’s not ready to learn any magic.” I complained.

“Children are more capable than you think,” Wong said firmly, he shot me a look full of daggers. “They have so much potential because their minds are open.”

“She’s scared of her own shadow!”

“Then why did you choose her?” Wong spat.

That shut me up.

“Hmm?” Wong challenged. “If you hate her that much then why was it her? Why not all those other children? Some of them were decent and would’ve worked. Why was she any different?”

“I don’t know!” I shouted, standing up and starting to pace. “There was just something about her. I felt it. When I saw her eyes… She just looked special. Okay?”

“Then we both know she was meant to be here.”

I groaned and threw my hands in the air. Too mentally stressed out to argue with him any further. Sure, Samrah was okay. She was special and different but she was still just a child. I saw what kind of stress this whole ‘hero’ crap put on poor little Peter Parker. Heck, he’s seen his idol and protector lose to a giant purple raisin, he’s been dissolved into ash and he’s almost died. A lot. I didn’t agree with Stark’s decision to rope someone so young and inexperienced into a world full of dangers. And in the world I lived in, one mistake could cost you everything. Your life, your soul, your freedom, you could even lose an eye if you weren’t careful! This just felt like a terrible and horrible thing to be doing to someone as quiet and sweet as Samrah. Somehow, I didn’t feel like she deserved this.

“She’ll be fine, Stephen,” Wong said, pulling out another book.

“But she’s my responsibility, Wong. If she dies, I fail as a mentor.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Is this how you felt with me?”

“No,” He replied bluntly.

“Exactly! Because I wasn’t some child who can barely multiply two by two!” I argued.

“Sometimes you reminded me of one.” He said seriously.

“Ha, ha, ha.” I laughed sarcastically.

“She hasn’t even been here ten minutes and you’re already rejecting her? Give Samrah time to acclimate, Strange. And please don’t scare her off.” Wong took the book he was flipping through and tucked it under his arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go check on the London Sanctum. When I come back, Samrah will still be in this Sanctum. Agreed?”

“Fine.” I grumpily agreed.

Wong nodded and created a spinning oval of sparks. He disappeared through the other side and left me in the silence of the Sanctum. My thoughts were spinning around my head like a nasty hurricane. Whipping around my head and making me dizzy.

I decided to sit down and steady myself. The library was practically rotating on an axis. I didn’t like this. At all. Not to say Samrah wasn’t a great person. Honestly, she seemed as pure as they come. Maybe that’s why I felt this way. She was just too good to be true. Wait, I barely knew this girl and I was already thinking like I’d known her for years?

I needed to think. And the best place to do that was at Kamar-taj. I was sure I’d be back before Wong got to the Sanctum. Samrah would be fine because she looked too scared to even move in her bedroom. I’d be back before either of them knew I was gone.

I felt the Cloak of Levitation tap my shoulder and I looked over at it. It unfolded itself and started floating behind me. Almost like it would stay behind and make sure Samrah wasn’t totally alone in the Sanctum. I liked that idea. The Cloak of Levitation wouldn’t let Samrah do anything foolish.

“Keep her on the first and second floors. I don’t want her getting herself killed on the first day.”

The Cloak nodded and flew out of the room to search for the girl and I got back to what I was going to do.

When I opened up a portal to Kamar-taj I didn’t see Samrah staring after me as I left the Sanctum.

* * *

 Samrah tried to slow her beating heart with a few quick breaths. She counted from one to ten but she was still freaking out. Not only did this house—no, Sanctum—give her the total creeps, her brand new father had just left her alone! In the creepy Sanctum. The house felt alive. It was buzzing in Samrah’s ears like a lonely call. It made her whole body itch and she didn’t like it. At all. Meeting new people was stressful enough. Meeting new people who disappeared through circles of fire was a thousand times more stressful. Plus, she was lost.

Samrah didn’t know what possessed her to leave the safety of her room but she felt oddly drawn to explore. She had not resisted the weird urge and had mustered up enough bravery to step out into the hallways. As she wandered through the… Sanctum. She had been thinking about the weird person she had seen on the roof earlier. Not only did the person itself intrigue her but the roof also did.

When Samrah was little, she used to sit up on top of the roof of the orphanage and gaze out at the lights of New York. To her, they looked like a glowing sea. Waves of beautiful moonlight dotted on stiff water. On that roof was where she could think about things she couldn’t in a noisy orphanage. But soon, Mrs. Wathson, the orphanage caretaker, had found her. She locked off the way to the roof and Samrah had to look out at the city through a dirty window.

Samrah had been looking for a way to the roof in the Sanctum but had been unsuccessful. Instead, she had just seen the impossible happen and Stephen had just left her. Alone…

Who even did that?!

Samrah finally decided to leave the library like the room even though she really wanted to see what kind of books a strange man like Stephen kept in his strange house. Instead, Samrah continued her search for the roof.

As she explored the Sanctum she noticed Stephen had a bunch of interesting and dangerous looking things. Some of them looked really old and weird. There was one that looked like a mask. It was held in a glass case so she couldn’t touch it. That was fine with her. The holes where the eyes were supposed to be felt like they were following her.

Samrah hurried past the case.

All of the walls looked the same. Dark, dark, and dark. There wasn’t much light in the house so that just made the dark walls even darker. Samrah wandered through the place with glass cases. She was nervously fingering the ring on her neck. It was strung up like a necklace and hanging down to her chest. It was beautiful and special to her. Mysterious but apart of her. She had never been without it and she never wanted to be. There was something comforting about it. Every time she got nervous she would reach up to stroke its cold and jewel-studded surface. Of course, Samrah had never thought to wear it. It looked too big to fit on her fingers so she kept it around her neck at all times. Even when she slept.

Samrah noticed that one of the glass cases was empty. There was absolutely nothing in it. Samrah found that odd considering all the other glass cases had been full of something. Samrah circled the case and wondered if someone had stolen what was supposed to be inside of it. As she looked for clues something appeared in the reflection. At first, Samrah thought it was Stephen and she was going to be in trouble for snooping around his Sanctum. But what she saw in the glass was something much more terrifying. It was red… and… and… It was flying.

Samrah screeched as she shot around, banging her head on the glass case. She fell to her knees and covered her face. Samrah was trembling as she tried to ignore her throbbing skull. She kept repeating, it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real, I’m not gonna die, I’m not gonna die over and over in her head.

Unfortunately, it was real and when she looked over her arms it was still there. She squeaked and curled up in a ball, protecting herself from the floating red creature. Samrah lay there in complete and utter silence. Wondering why the floating thing hadn’t eaten her yet. She felt something brush against her shoulder and she tensed up, ready to cry. Then something soft and velvety started to caress her arm. Samrah’s terrified breathing slowed as the gentle feeling of fabric petted her exposed arm.

She slowly rose her head to look at the creature.

Turns out it wasn’t some flying monster. It was actually a floating cape and it seemed to be trying to calm her down. Its touches were gentle and calming. It didn’t look like it wanted to eat her but Samrah didn’t let her guard down. It cautiously moved behind her and started to stroke her cheek. Samrah found this quite kind… Even if it was supposed to be an inanimate object. Samrah reached a shaky and tentative hand to touch it’s velvet scarlet fabric. It bristled at her fingers and seemed to wrap a reassuring hug around her.

“So…” Samrah said quietly. “Do flying capes speak English?” It shook with fury and Samrah squealed and hid again. The flying cape was not being very nice. It kept scaring Samrah and for some odd reason, it looked irritated. She felt it pat her arm and pull her up. It dragged Samrah’s limp body over to the empty glass case. It let her go and Samrah had to catch her balance. The cape pointed at a small plaque underneath the case.

“The Cloak of Levitation? Oh! You’re not a cape! You’re a cloak!” Samrah exclaimed when she read the plaque. The cloak twirled in the air and wrapped around Samrah. Samrah giggled slightly. The cloak felt safe and warm. Perhaps one of the only real hugs she’s had in years. “Sorry about the earlier confusion.” She snuggled it back and it seemed to hug her harder with more passion. “It’s not every day I meet a sentient cloak.” Actually, her not so normal life just became absolutely insane! Samrah couldn’t quite decide if she liked it or not.

The cloak unwrapped itself from Samrah and levitated in front of her. It was obvious that the cloak somehow understood what she was saying. But it still was rather crazy. Especially since she was talking to it. Maybe… Maybe it could show her to the roof? It sounded crazy but…

“Hey,” Samrah said quietly. “Do you know where the roof is?”

The cloak nodded.

Samrah smiled.

“Can you show me, please?”

It spun around Samrah in a circle before attaching to her shoulders and lifting her off the ground. Samrah squealed for the fiftieth time and she clutched her arms, kicking her legs. The cloak rubbed her shoulders and calmed her down before moving forward. Samrah stayed stiff as it carried her past a large window that let in soft waves of white light.

There was a symbol on the window. Samrah squinted as she studied it. Why did it look so familiar?

The cloak pulled Samrah past the window and up a staircase. Samrah’s feet barely grazed the dark steps and she was on the floor with the rooms. They went down the opposite way that her room was and entered another hallway. They passed a place with a bunch of doors leading to different places in the world.

 _Wait, was that the grand canyon?_ Samrah thought, stretching her neck to get a better look. Before she could confirm that it was, the cloak flew her away. Finally, they came to an open spaced place with no rooms. There was a couch and a desk with old and dusty papers and a feather quill. The cloak paused for a moment. Looking left and right.

There were two staircases. One to the left and the other to the right. The one to the left spirals up higher than the one to the right. The stairs were dusty and looked like no one had used them in years. The cloak slowly crept to the right.

“Why not left?” Samrah asked. Curious as to why it chose this specific one. They both went up so they had to go to the same place. The cloak ignored her and continued up the right staircase. It stopped at the top and set Samrah on her feet. She wobbled when it detached from her shoulder. It flew up a ladder and twisted a large wheel and pushed up. Golden sunlight flitted through the hole and the cloak disappeared up it. Samrah took a deep breath and climbed up the ladder.

Her head popped out and she gasped. It was a large weathered copper roof that looked green with a grey concrete floor that looked cracked with age. There was nothing much on the roof but there was a small rusty golden rail surrounding the edges of the roof. The sun was setting behind tall towers of glass and brick. The dying light of the sun cast a ghostly, fiery glow against the rooftop.

Samrah’s throat tightened as tears built up in the corner of her eyes. She walked to the rail next to the Cloak of Levitation. Samrah let the tears slide down her cheeks as she smiled. Samrah cried with joy as she watched the beautiful light refract off of diamond-like windows around her. The sound of traffic faded as she bathed in the sunset. It was so beautiful when she didn’t have to look through a clouded window. The colors were so much more vibrant. It all seemed more real, not like a dream she could barely touch through the fabric of glass.

She started to sob when she realized she was free, standing on top of the Sanctum. No more noisy hallways, no more sleepless nights, no more bullies, and no more Mrs. Wathson. Samrah didn’t miss it one bit. She knew it, she felt it. Freedom…

It felt so good. Samrah rested her elbows on the railing and sighed, wiping away the tears.

“Thank you,” Samrah whispered. The cloak draped over her and they watched the sun fade to twilight together. Stars twinkled in the purple sky and she knew she wasn’t just free.

Samrah knew she was finally home…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I remained silent, her words flipping over in my head like a hurricane filled with turmoil. It felt like I was being torn apart by listening to Christine and shoving aside my ego or listening to myself and once again foolishly making a mistake. I didn’t know what to think of Samrah but I knew one important thing. Nothing would ever be the same even if I did give her back. I could go back to life and forget this ever happened but she would go back to living her life before this in that awful orphanage with that awful excuse for a mother. Why did things concerning children have to be so complicated?
> 
> “Okay…” I replied, giving up on my mental war. “I’ll give it a chance.”
> 
> “Her,” Christine added.
> 
> I smiled despite myself. “Yeah, her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, readers! Sorry this is a day late but I had an unexpected incident that tore me from my writing. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Feel free to comment your thoughts! I’m free to suggestions!

“I swear I left her right here,” I said, scratching my head.

Wong and I were in Samrah’s new room. Everything looked the same as I left it. The only exception was Samrah. We had looked all over the two stories and we had found nothing. The thing that made me the most irritated was that I told the Cloak of Levitation to keep her only on the first floor. I had half a mind to finally explore the third and final floor just to find a fifteen-year-old girl.

“Stephen, she’s young and curious. You really didn’t think she would explore?” Wong sighed, lifting up a pillow just in case she had shrunk herself (what? It could happen!).

“I didn’t take her for the curious type,” I said truthfully.

Wong shook his head and exited her room.

“I told you that when I left I wanted Samrah still in this Sanctum,” Wong said sternly. I followed him and crossed my arms. How was I supposed to know she was going to explore? Besides, I hadn’t left her completely alone. The Cloak of Levitation stayed behind to watch her. Either they were both lost or Samrah was just really good at faking being shy. Maybe she was some sort of evil demon disguised as a helpless teenager. I could definitely get Wong to drop the whole apprentice thing if that were true.

“I don’t understand why the Cloak didn’t do what I said. I told it to not let her over the first floor.” I grumbled, entering the main hallway.

Sometimes I was afraid of tripping over something in the Sanctum. Especially at night. It was dark enough during the day, the night was a whole new monster. Wong had lit all the candles but that didn’t necessarily help a lot. I was thinking about getting someone to install an electrical system for the lights but I didn’t really want some normal person snooping around a dangerous Sanctum.

“The Cloak of Levitation is not your dog, Strange. It thinks for itself. I’m sure it wouldn’t let Samrah get herself killed or lost.” Wong explained turning a corner and passing the hallway with the doors that took you to different places in the world. He took a left and led me to a place in the Sanctum I’d never been to before. It was a rather small roomish place, there was a desk behind me and a couch. There were no windows to let in the moonlight or starlight from outside and it was deathly quiet and almost completely dark.

I snapped my fingers and a ball of sparkling energy formed in my palm, illuminating the room fully.

I frowned and huffed.

We had found Samrah. She was sleeping peacefully on the couch. Her chest slowly rising up and down. She looked rather happy but it didn’t keep me from feeling frustrated and relieved at the same time. The only thing that made me feel better about the situation was that I could see the scarlet outline of the Cloak of Levitation. It noticed me and rose up, gently carrying Samrah with it in its folds of velvet like fabric. Samrah sighed and twitched but didn’t wake up.

The Cloak of Levitation had kept Samrah from killing or shrinking herself but that didn’t stop me from being angry at it.

I glared at it and pointed in the direction to Samrah’s room. It did what I told it but rudely bumped me on the way past. I flicked it and looked back at Wong.

He was standing to the left staring at a staircase that rose in a spiral. I walked over to stand beside him. He was just staring up it with his eyes sad and somber. I decided not to ask why he looked sad. That was his business, not mine. Although, I was interested in what could make my stone-faced former mentor nearly shed a tear.

The staircase spiraled up higher than the other one. It seemed to go up really high and then level out. It looked like it led to another story.

“What’s up there?” I whispered, hoping to not disrupt whatever he was thinking too badly.

“The third floor,” Wong said.

“I gathered that.” I scoffed. “But _what’s_ up there?”  

“You’ll see,” Wong replied, going the way Samrah and the Cloak went. “When you’re ready.”

“Of course,” I said sarcastically. “How did I _not_ see that coming?”

“I don’t know, Stephen,” Wong said seriously, returning to his old self. I rolled my eyes and followed him. He was heading to Samrah’s room. The last place I wanted to go to right now.

The Cloak had tucked her in under the deep navy blue sheets. Soft pale moonlight lit the room. It cast a small shadow against her face, making her face look deeper and older than it was. The ring was still around her neck, glowing in the darkness of the room. The ring intrigued me because of how familiar it looked. I just could not remember where I had seen it. The idea would kill me until I figured out how I remembered it.

Wong was standing silently next to me, his breath barely a whisper in the air. He was smiling as he gazed at Samrah bathed in the pearly light of the moon. The Cloak was lying on top of her and stroking her raven hair. It was, as far as a man could tell, pretty adorable the way they cuddled on the bed. I’d have to say I’m a little jealous.

Wong walked out of the room and I let the Cloak sleep with Samrah tonight. I closed the door quietly and stepped back, trying to wrap my head around this day. Today I became an apprentice and a guardian for a fifteen-year-old child, tomorrow I have to actually play that into action. I didn’t know how I was going to ease Samrah into sorcery. It is pretty mind-boggling when you find out everything you think you know about the world is a lie. So many hidden truths of the world are uncovered by the things we can’t see. Reality is a meticulous thing. It’s complicated and crazy but it always works. It has a system that even someone on Earth with an extremely creative and scientific mind could barely understand or even recreate. Reality hated me today because it has probably completely changed my life forever.

Wong patted me on the shoulder, sensing my distress. I knew he was trying to reassure me but it was his fault we were both in this mess now. I had a feeling that we couldn’t go back now. What was done was done. No, take backs, no restarts. Why does destiny suck so bad sometimes? Wong left me to stare defeated at Samrah’s dark oak door. I checked my watch. Even though its glass was still cracked, I had managed to get the gears working again with a little spin of magic. It was too important for me to break anymore so I had set a ward of protection on it. Nothing could break it. Not even a laser blast from an alien spacecraft and definitely not another car accident.

The time read ten-thirty and I realized just how late I had stayed at Kamartaj. I hadn’t meant to stay that long but the place had something comforting about it that the Sanctum didn’t have. The Sanctum was a mess of magic. Busy threads and popping bursts of energy sometimes made it hard for me to sleep. Samrah didn’t seem to have an issue though. She was sleeping like a baby.

I knew I was going to regret this but I wanted to talk to someone about today. Someone who might pity me enough to let all my emotions go in one wave. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. My thumb lingered over the name, not wanting to really press it. Why couldn’t I do it? What was keeping me from making a call? My heart with thumping loud and my palms became slick with sweat. It had been months since I had contacted her in anyway… But Christine was the only person who might understand what I’m feeling. Unlike Wong who truly only understood the potential outcome of the situation.

I pressed it and started to walk to my room. The phone was ringing in my ear and I could barely breathe. The ringing stopped and my hand touched the cold metal of my doorknob. Silence stretched forever until I heard a simple…

“Stephen?”

“Christine…” I let out my breath and opened up the door. I plopped down on my bed and ran a hand through my hair, mostly trying to wipe the sweat beading down my forehead. “H-How are you? It’s been a while.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. How are you?” She asked, sounding almost as nearly breathless as me.

“I’m… Confused. I’ll explain it later. Those pancakes were to die for, though.”

She laughed through the phone and my throat constricted. I had forgotten how that laugh sounded.

“I’m glad you liked them, sleeping beauty. How did you sleep?” She asked.

“Great until Wong woke me up,” I grumbled.

She laughed again, clearly amused at my distress. “Oh, I’m sure you’re fine now.”

I sighed. “I’m not so sure.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well,” I breathed. “We went to orphanages today.”

“What? Why?” Christine asked, concern in her voice. She sounded about as confused as I was when we had arrived at the first orphanage.

“Wong wanted me to have an apprentice and he decided a kid would be best,” I explained.

“Really? That’s great! But you don’t sound so happy… Did you not find someone?”

“No, we did. Her name is Samrah.” I said, kicking off my shoes and slipping underneath the sheets. I adjusted the phone to my left hand and let my head rest against the backboard of the bed.

“Aw, what a beautiful name! How old is she?” Christine gasped.

“She’s fifteen. Her sixteenth birthday is approaching soon. She’s really quiet and shy but seems to be very kind.” I said. Wait, was that a hint of compassion in my voice? No, it couldn’t be. I must be too tired.

“Well, looks like I’ll have to visit more often. Come and see your new daughter.”

My muscles tightened. “She is not my daughter.”

Christine huffed. “Come on, Stephen. Give her a chance.”

I groaned. “You sound like Wong.”

“He’s a smart man. You should listen to him more often.” She chastised. I could just imagine her shaking her finger at me and making some adorable angry face. I missed seeing her. I didn’t realize until now just how much.

“You’re not on his side, are you?” I complained.

“Stephen, don’t be such a whiny butt. She’s just a kid.” Christine replied.

“I know! That’s the problem!”

Christine was silent for a while. “Why is that a problem?” She didn’t sound angry or agitated this time she sounded sad and considerate. She really wanted to know what was the matter and that’s what I loved about Christine. She shoved aside her own feelings to hear others. Sometimes I wished I could do that for someone else. It was just _so_ hard to do that for somebody. But why?

“She‘s so young…” I explained, sighing in the middle. I fiddled with the sheets in my hands and continued. “I’m afraid that she’s not ready for this. Her brain isn’t fully developed and the things she might see may haunt her for the rest of her life. Wong may see it as benefitting the rest of her life but I see it as damnation. Once we go into this there is no going back. She’ll be bound to this world as much as I am. And if she dies—” I had to cut myself off. There it was… That feeling. The feeling of undeniable regret, protection, possessiveness. What was wrong with me? I’ve never felt this way, ever, and it was beginning to really bug me. It wasn’t natural. Not for me.

“Aw, Stephen. This just means you care about her.” Christine said, somehow knowing what I was thinking.

“How can I care about her? I barely know her! We just met today and only said three words to each other!”

“Stephen… I don’t know how to explain it to you. You’re a mystery to me sometimes and I don’t always understand what’s going on in that head of yours, but I do know this.” She paused. “You are the most capable person I know to protect and love this girl. If anyone can do this and do it right, it’s you. Don’t give up on this yet. Don’t give up on _her_.”

I remained silent, her words flipping over in my head like a hurricane filled with turmoil. It felt like I was being torn apart by listening to Christine and shoving aside my ego or listening to myself and once again foolishly making a mistake. I didn’t know what to think of Samrah but I knew one important thing. Nothing would ever be the same even if I did give her back. I could go back to life and forget this ever happened but she would go back to living her life before this in that awful orphanage with that awful excuse for a mother. Why did things concerning children have to be so complicated?

“Okay…” I replied, giving up on my mental war. “I’ll give it a chance.”

“Her,” Christine added.

I smiled despite myself. “Yeah, her.”

“When will you start training her?”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Probably in a few weeks. I’d like to get Samrah acclimated first before throwing her into this.”

I could feel Christine’s smile through the phone call and I knew she was happy with my answer and my chest bubbled with my own happiness.

We talked for hours until I realized it was extremely late. I bid Christine goodbye and settled in for the night. I turned off the lamplight I had on tucked myself underneath the blankets again. I hoped that sleep would deprive me of today’s events. Maybe tomorrow I would wake up and this would be a dream. A pointless, mad, and abstract dream. Like the fast food restaurant. And hopefully, I’d wake up tomorrow and she’d be gone. But before I fell asleep, the last thought I regretted thinking was, _what would I do if she were gone?_

* * *

 

Samrah couldn’t sleep. She lay tossing and turning, trying to get as comfortable as she possibly could. The Cloak of Levitation wasn’t helping either. It would always squish up against her and keep her from moving. Samrah had tried multiple times to wiggle out from under its grip but it was surprisingly strong. So she attempted to once again escape from the Cloak’s death grip and surprisingly succeeded.

Samrah let her bare feet hit the cold wooden floor silently, scanning her surroundings. The drapes were pulled back, revealing a large two-pane window letting moonlight refract and shine across the floor. Samrah decided to explore her room a little further, even though it was extremely dark. She decided to open the curtains as far as she could to let in as much light as possible. While moonlight showered her room, she found a lamp near her bed. She pulled the golden chain and the lamp sprang to life, scaring the Cloak of Levitation and making Samrah flinch and shield her eyes. As her eyes adjusted to the light, the Cloak settled back down on the bed and seemed to be sleeping. Samrah didn’t know if it could sleep or not but she decided not to bother it anyway.

Samrah explored her bathroom. It was large with a tub and shower. She had a sink and a cabinet underneath it. There were no toothbrushes and soap was absent as well. Samrah assumed that tomorrow they would go shopping since she didn’t have much to put in her room. Actually, she didn’t have anything to put in her room.

Samrah rubbed her eyes and yawned, stretching her arms behind her back. She did have to admit that she was tired but it was impossible to sleep with the Sanctum always ringing in her ears. The feeling of being watched by the large mansion-like house made her skin itch and her heart pound. She wasn’t used to it but she felt like she should be. Samrah didn’t know what this feeling was but she had felt it before… Ever since The Dusting. At least that's what she called it. It was the night her entire orphanage had faded to dust. The night she…

Samrah shook her head to clear herself of those awful memories. She wouldn’t relive them. Not here. Samrah was starting over, her life was changing, and she couldn’t dwell in the past. She had to move forward or she would always be stuck in the life she hated more than anything.

And this also meant that she had to be braver than she was. Samrah knew the best way to start this was to explore the Sanctum. She had gotten a small tour when the Cloak of Levitation had flown her to the roof but it was brief and very quick. Samrah was very curious about the window she had seen. She didn’t know why it was familiar. Maybe she had seen it in a dream? No, she would’ve remembered if she saw it in a dream. It was familiar for another reason and she was determined to find out why.

Samrah took a deep and calming before turning the doorknob and opening up into a black abyss that was supposed to be a hallway. Samrah gulped as something creaked the right of her. That was the direction of Stephen’s room so it was probably just him. Samrah took a leap of faith and stepped out into the dark hallway. The silence was startling cold as she shut the door. Not even the click of the knob made a noise. She stood very still. Almost like any sudden movement would awaken the house. The feeling had faded from her body, making it almost crave the return of the vibrating force. Samrah blew a sigh of relief and took a step forward.

Apparently, this was a bad idea because she was unexpectedly bombarded by thousands of sounds. Samrah whimpered and shrank inside of herself. She covered her ears and tried to block out the sound. It was like a million voices speaking all at once and it was overwhelming. It was almost like just stepping on a floorboard had awoken a sleeping burrow of termites and they were angry at her for disturbing their sleep. Eventually, the angry shouts dulled down to a whisper and she could fully move without yelping in fear.

Samrah mustered up all of her strength and a few took quick steps to the left where the hallway to the window was. She half ran half jogged there because she was afraid that if she stopped suddenly or ran too fast, the voices would come back. She ran blindly around a corner, not afraid to run into anything. All she did was follow a faint trail of light that kept growing larger and larger. Soon enough she was in the room with the glass cases.

The glinted menacingly from the light waving in from the giant circular window. Samrah walked to the window and touched the cold metal beneath her fingers. It felt like the chill of water beneath her fingertips. It came rushing through her hand up her arm and filling her entire body with a feeling of ice. Goosebumps dotted her arms and she removed her hand from the window. She shivered and studied it closer.

It was much larger than any window she had seen. Round and daunting as it seemed, it glowed with warmth and showered Samrah in brilliant moonlight. She couldn’t see through the window necessarily. It was thin and clear enough to let in light but dark enough that she couldn’t see the outside and the outside couldn’t see her.

The window was decorated with small threads of gold lacing and spiraling in glorious circles that were all connected but not the same. It was a pattern that was complex and beautiful in its own unique way. There was a larger golden symbol that outshone them all. It was composed of only four curved lines. Each line thinned and thickened in flourishing motions to create something Samrah had seen before but did not remember. It was like an old and haunting dream trying to tug on her memory strings but just not able to pluck the right one.

Samrah didn’t know how long she stood there admiring the large glowing mural until she noticed a shadow streak across its gleaming surface. The whispers started in her head and Samrah froze momentarily. She was about to run back to her room for safety but something was different about the voices this time. It was like they were afraid like they were warning her. What were they afraid of and why would they want to warn her of all people?

Upon pondering this situation the whispers rushed into a roar and Samrah shrieked and flinched away from the window, instinct carrying her behind a glass case. She slipped just as something crashed through the window. Sending shards of broken light daggers in her direction. Samrah screamed and pressed herself against the floor. The crash and shattering of the windows were deafening and it shattered Samrah’s teeth. Her knuckles were bone white as she prayed that no glass shards would sink into her skin.

Once the spray of glass and metal scraps ceased to rain down Samrah shakily lifted her head to stare through the glass case. The glass was broken and made the thing she saw through the case distorted but it was still equally horrifying. With or without the spiderwebbed cracks littering its surface.

Samrah’s heart stopped beating when whatever it was rose on its haunches. In the moon encrusted light of the room, a monster rose to the ceiling of the Sanctum. It had ten bloodshot eyes blinking rapidly as it locked its sights on her. An ear-shattering roar shook the second floor as the monster opened its mighty black jaws. Its head was bigger than he torso and far more muscle than tight leather-like skin. Horns protruded from its skin like thorns on the stem of a red rose. Two tongues dripping with green and hot acid slid to the side if its muscular face. It was absolutely hideous. The thing had six legs and a long whip-like tail. The glass shards slid down its spiny back like raindrops and clattered to the ground.

Samrah was never more afraid in her life and she had been terrified multiple times. This creature was twice her size with shark-like fangs as long as her forehead. Her body refused to move. She was fixed to the floor in horror and prayed to God that it didn’t see her. But she knew in her heart it was too late and she was going to die. Right here, right now.

Her mind scrambled for answers, some sort of reaction to escape her impending doom as the monster leaped and retracted inch long claws. Samrah managed to get a scream to tear from her throat before the monster attacked, lifting her arms to protect herself. Her heart pumped faster and faster and faster as she tried to somehow stop the monster from snapping her neck or eating her whole. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see its red eyes flashing in the victory of its kill.

Her whole body suddenly vibrated with energy and it felt like her gut was burning. She thought it was the pain and so desperately wanted it to go away so she pushed it away mentally in a desperate attempt to stay alive. Air whooshed past her face and she felt the collision of the beast but she didn’t feel its claws sinking into her. Samrah didn’t feel the pain of her death and she didn’t feel her heart stop and fade into an eternal abyss of darkness. Instead, it felt like she was being pushed and the sound of furious thrashing and scraping caused her to foolishly open her eyes.

The monster was there but it wasn’t on her. Instead, it seemed to be plunging its face into a wall of orange and yellow. The light was call and sure and had formed a bubble around Samrah. The creature's tail was beating the weird bubble Samrah found herself to be in and its teeth were furiously trying to break through to its prey. Samrah backed up quickly with her legs, cowering at the far edge of the bubble. Samrah didn’t know where this glowing bubble of intricate changing symbols came from but she didn’t care because it was the only thing separating her from death’s impending jaws.

Suddenly, a rope of the same colors and sparks wrapped around the creature’s neck and slammed it to the floor. Samrah quickly stood up and watched her adoptive father levitating in front of the creature, the lasso of sparks radiating from his palm as he struggled to keep it from Samrah. He was wearing something different as she watched him take another rope from nowhere and trip the beast. The clothes looked like dark navy robes contrasted by the bright red of the Cloak of Levitation which was resting upon his shoulders and flourishing its beautiful fabric as it lifted Stephen from the ground.

“Wong! A little help!” He shouted as a glowing lasso frayed and snapped in a flurry of embers. The shorter and bald man that Samrah knew to be Wong ran up behind the monster and agilely avoided the mace-like tail and conjured a rope much like Stephen’s. Together, they wrestled the beast to the ground and wound the ropes around four pillars of dark oak to hold it in place. Stephen approached the thrashing monster with a glowing orb of white light. His face was unreadable and incredibly menacing. His booted feet touched the ground right in front of its jaws. They snapped and the monster roared in fury.

“Doctor Strange!” It hissed, the lasso around its throat nearly choking it. Its voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard and made Samrah cringe. The voice sounded female or as female as a ten-foot monster could sound. Its ten eyes blinked one at a time as it roared again. “You won’t get away with this! I will get what I want.”

“If what you want is _her_ ," Stephen said coldly, malice sparkling in his eyes. “Then tonight is not your night.”

It laughed a horrible and gut-wrenching laugh. “Go ahead, kill me. But like I said, I _will_ get what I want.”

Stephen’s face snapped in rage and he stabbed the orb of light through its chest and it convulsed in pain. White beams explode from tearing seams in the monster's body. Its screams were horrible and loud, Samrah plugged her ears and curled in a ball. It tried to wiggle out of the bonds but it did not succeed. The creature exploded in a cloud of sand and ash. Samrah peeked out from her feeble position when the smoke settled. Stephen was standing and staring down at Samrah with his arms crossed. Wong was worried and was touching the surface of the still existing bubble Samrah was protected in.

“How did you do this?” Stephen asked, tapping the bubble. It rippled and then settled back to a solid state. “I can’t break it.”

“You didn’t make this?” Samrah asked breathlessly.

“No.” He and Wong both said at the same time.

Stephen bit his lip and averted his icy blue gaze. “If that Sand Demon wanted Samrah that badly then more might attack again.” He said this to Wong who sighed in response.

“That is a possibility.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes. “If that thing could get past my wards than anything will. We need to be ready.” He looked at Samrah and her eyes widened. “ _You_ need to be ready.” He knelt down and tried to force a smile on his face. “Congratulations, Samrah. Looks like we’re starting your training earlier than I thought.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samrah was coughing because the air was thick with smoke and screaming. She was screaming, tears pooling down her cheeks. Her throat was raw and hoarse but it didn’t stop her from calling out. Hope wasn’t lost it couldn’t be. She had to be okay… He had to be okay! But nothing could shatter the plain truth that made her cry out anyway.
> 
> “Max!”
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, everyone! I super, super sorry that this is out so late! I wasn't planning on my life getting so busy so quickly! School is right around the corner which will screw up my schedule and knock me off my writing game but I'm still going to try and get chapters out as quickly as I can! 
> 
> Finally! There's some Peter in this chapter! And fans of the Spideychelle relationship are really going to enjoy it! 
> 
> Don't forget to comment and leave a kudos! It'll keep me motivated and help me continue the story. 
> 
> Without further ado, chapter four! Enjoy! :)

Muffled voices contemplated choices. Choices that would change the universe of a small and lonely girl. Give her a completely new and crazy life, crazier than the one she had already lived before. Her entire existence a mystery to even the wisest of the world. This girl sat in a cage of her own creation, one that couldn’t be broken. Well, it could, Stephen and Wong just couldn’t figure out how. Samrah was still in the bubble of bright orange and yellow light, hugging her knees and swaying back and forth.

Despite their countless attempts to shatter the shield protecting Samrah, the thing refused to break. It merely wiggled and then returned to normal. It was like an ocean that was suddenly disturbed by the simplest crashing of a few items and then calmed by some unknown and invisible force of serenity. It perplexed and annoyed the poor girl trapped inside of it. Stephen and Wong had stayed up through the darkest hours of the night trying to help her and fix the mess created by the Sand Demon.

Samrah shivered as its blood red eyes entered her mind. She took a deep breath and closed her eyelids. She had to be strong, she couldn’t break in front of two people who were so strong and sure of themselves. How would she seem to them? Weak and fragile? Maybe she was but she wouldn’t let them figure that out. Stephen already looked like he expected more from her and she was hellbent on delivering it. There was something about his eyes that made her want to make him as proud as humanly possible. Samrah was going to prove herself...in whatever way she could.

That opportunity was apparently closer than she had expected because Stephen had mentioned something about training. Training? But for what? A marathon? Ooh, maybe he was training her for school! He had mentioned that earlier but one thought kept creeping into her mind that made her want to curl up and hide in the darkest room she could. The idea of being trained for what she had seen, being trained to so what he and Wong could do. Magic...that’s what she identified it as. That’s what it looked like, that’s what it _felt_ like.

When Stephen had conjured the ropes of light Samrah had been immediately entranced by how they worked. Where they came from and what they did. She felt a weird connection the crazy amount of cold energy Stephen pulsated on a daily basis. Samrah could normally feel the presence of a person. Ever since she was five when she had needed it the most. Every living thing gave off a certain amount of energy. To her, she specified it as a person’s life force. The younger they were, the more they radiated. It was the opposite for people who were older but the case was different for Stephen and Wong.

Wong was emitting more than the average person but Stephen was like a cold current of water. Splashing her from every angle and making her body shudder with a feeling of excitement and fear. She somehow felt a deep respect for this feeling. It felt cold and calculating but protective and brave. It made her just as confused as he looked whenever their eyes met. Samrah didn’t know why he was confused or why she was confused. Sometimes she wondered if anyone else out there could feel her. What would her essence feel like? Small and unnoticeable or as furious as a raging fire. She liked to think she was the former… It made hiding an easier thought.

Samrah knew they were talking about her because Stephen had that look in his eyes. The confusion and fire inside of them represented whatever conflicts were warring within himself. She didn’t know what about her made him so distraught and it made Samrah feel bad often. Whatever it was she would fix it. Samrah didn’t like it when anyone felt uncomfortable around her, it made her feel uncomfortable. His brows were creased and his lips were pressed together. His black hair was shuffled and sweaty. He was constantly running his hands through his hair, tussling it up as he would let out a sigh. Wong was speaking rather passionately to Stephen and Stephen was nodding considerately. They were probably talking about her training specifically and it made her heart thump loudly in her chest.

Lots of things made Samrah nervous so it wasn’t surprising that this was making her freak out just a little bit. Heck, she had almost died at the vicious claws of a _Sand Demon._ Samrah didn’t even know what a Sand Demon was! To be fair, it did have demon and sand in its name obviously it was a demon that dealt with sand or something. Besides, it was _a demon._ Demons were scary. At least in her opinion. Stephen had just poofed the thing into thin air! Or dust, sand, whatever! It was absolutely terrifying and if she had to fight demons on a daily basis it would not be okay. No matter how prepared she’d be.

Stephen shot Samrah a pitying glance and narrowed his eyes knowingly at the bubble. Now she could tell they were talking about the magical shield she had placed herself in. Samrah didn’t know how it got there or how they were going to get rid of it. They’d tried everything that they could think of but Stephen was still looking at Samrah like he expected her to do something. What could she do? She couldn’t do anything, she didn’t _do_ anything.

They both walked closer to Samrah and Wong placed a hand on the bubble. It rippled and then settled.

“Samrah, we think that the bubble won’t break because you don’t feel safe,” Stephen explained, licking his lips and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“What?” Samrah breathed, standing up. “But I didn’t make this!”

“You don’t know that, we don’t know that…” Wong said. “We would just like you to try.”

Samrah bit her lower lip and nodded.

“Close your eyes and try to think of a place where you feel safe,” Stephen said softly. Samrah followed suit and closed her eyelids, breathing slowly and trying to imagine the one place where she felt safe. Her mind filled with soft golden light. It was beautiful and hypnotic, shifting and pulsing. There were rolling hills and jagged mountains starkly contrasted against the fiery glow of a sunset. The sky was becoming tinted with purple and pink as the blue of day faded slowly to night. The sound of children laughing made Samrah attention divide from the scene in front of her to the actions inside of her. She was young again, her tiny hands painted with pink nail polish. She was running in the blue and yellow wildflowers, the pollen glinting like fireflies in the dying sunlight. There was another source of laughter behind her, it was male and young like her.

She couldn’t see his face but she knew his name, even if his features were forever forgotten to the streams of memory. He was breathing heavily as he ran behind Samrah, but he was still happy. The stopped on the grassy crest of a hill. Long and graceful blades of emerald grass tickled Samrah’s bare legs and she was lying down on her back, breathing heavily but also smiling. Her fingers were interlocked with the boys, her heart bursting with the feeling of peacefulness. She could sleep here, her heart intertwined with his for eternity. Samrah felt completely safe here, nothing could ruin the peace of this moment.

Samrah’s brow creased as the sunset faded to night with twinkling diamond stars. This was a memory that she longed to remember but forced herself to forget. Why was that? Everything was perfect here. Nothing was wrong, absolutely nothing. So what was giving her that undeniable feeling of dread? A feeling unknown at the time but familiar all the same.

“Max?” Samrah’s voice was small and unsure like it had always been.

“Yeah?” The boy beside her replied.

“Are you happy?” She asked.

“Of course!” He said, turning his shadowed head to her. “I’m always happy with you.” His fingers squeezed hers passionately and she giggled. She squeezed back and closed her eyes. She _was_ happy. Nothing could change that. After all the time of being unhappy, she finally was happy.

The ground shook and young Samrah laughed at the way it tickled her back but the hand of her friend had disappeared and she knew something had gone terribly wrong. The sky lit up in an inferno and Samrah saw that Max was gone. Now she was gone from the hill and calming blades of grass. Her bare feet hit cobblestone and pebbles, the dug into her toes and made her flinch. She was shielding her eyes because the light was bright.

Samrah was coughing because the air was thick with smoke and screaming. She was screaming, tears pooling down her cheeks. Her throat was raw and hoarse but it didn’t stop her from calling out. Hope wasn’t lost it couldn’t be. She had to be okay… He had to be okay! But nothing could shatter the plain truth that made her cry out anyway.

“Max!”

“Samrah!”

She was being shaken and her eyes snapped open. Stephen was holding her limp body and staring at her confused. She must’ve drifted off to sleep and the bubble had disappeared. Samrah blinked twice and noticed that she was crying. Wong was concerned with his lips pressed in a tight line. Samrah stood up wiped her tears away.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Samrah rubbed her eyes. “Can I actually--?”

“Take a nap?” Stephen finished for her. “Yes, of course. You’ve had a rough night.”

Samrah nodded and stumbled away, fighting the sudden urge to yawn. She knew she wouldn’t sleep but she wanted time to think to herself. Everything was happening too fast for her to think about with Wong and Stephen staring at her. Just a few hours ago she thought she was finally going to stay in a home with a family. Turns out, once again, her life is turned upside down and Stephen didn’t really look like he wanted her. She hated feeling like some form of cattle to be auctioned off and sold to the highest bidder. It wasn’t right. Samrah was just a kid. Only fourteen years old, barely touched by the outskirts of the world’s hungriest fingers.

She was in her room quickly, instinct took her there even though she was walking blindly. Her curtains were still open and everything was just like she left it only four hours ago. Even though the main floor was demolished, Stephen and Wong had managed to get a good portion of it cleaned up. It was impressive… Considering they constantly used their weird magical abilities.

Samrah sat on the bed, messing with her hands. She was trying to keep her mind off of last night’s events so she tried to imagine yester _day_ in her mind and recall how she had been adopted. She remembered walking into the room, both afraid and hopeful. She had seen Stephen and Wong walk in and wondered if they were going to adopt her. Of course, it was a foolish fantasy at the time because there was no way Mrs. Wathson would let them see her.

So Samrah stayed in her hallway. She slept in a nook underneath the only window of the fifth floor. The last floor. Only three people slept on that floor. They were the older kids, the only ones who didn’t make fun of her. They left her alone, though. They wouldn’t talk to her, they wouldn’t dare. Mostly because they were leaving the orphanage soon. They were all seventeen, just waiting to be eighteen and leave. One girl had actually told Samrah how excited she was to leave, even admitted they’d be friends if weren’t for that fact that she was going to be leaving in a month.

Samrah knew how long she would have to wait to leave. Four years felt like an eternity to her. It was unfair but she had gotten used to that in her life. In all life. The world picked out the smallest and weakest and made them a personal joke just to make itself look stronger.

Her thoughts wandered farther down the day. The walk to the Sanctum was pretty lacking in something to remember. She had been trying to see Stephen’s motives. Why he would adopt a child out of the blue. She knew who he was or who he used to be. A neurosurgeon who disappeared two years ago. She had glanced at the news that the younger kids were watching before she got caught. He had gotten into a severe car crash that had damaged his hands. It made sense to see his hands shaking often. He didn’t look like he noticed them, he was probably used to the feeling.

She didn’t know much about the matter. Everytime reporters had approached them he rudely brushed them off. He had rarely left his apartment and his one friend, Christine Palmer, refused to speak. About five months later, he disappeared without a trace. A missing person notice had been issued but no one had cared to look. Even the police were too busy.

Samrah had thought about keeping a lookout for him, even though she didn’t know who he was. Now she did or was going to. She found the missing person. Samrah wasn’t going to tell everyone because she already suspected that he was the cloaked figure she had seen two days before the Dusting. Fighting some weird looking alien with four other guys she didn’t recognize. Besides Wong. They didn’t know she was watching but she was. She was always watching and waiting for her time to be watched. To be wanted. To be something more than herself and to finally find the piece of her puzzle that was missing.

That would take a while, she knew that. But someone would notice her, it was only a matter of time the world was introduced to the girl with no last name and no past or future. Samrah had to come out of the shadows. And Doctor Stephen Strange was her best bet. So if he asked her about training, she wasn’t going to run away. Not this time.

* * *

 

Peter Parker stretched his arms behind his back and let out a long and bored yawn. It six in the morning, the sun was barely up but he was. He kicked off his bed sheets and slid out of the top bunk of his bed. He usually didn’t sleep on the top but he felt like a change of pace would be great. Also, he was going to test his theory. Maybe the weird dreams would stop if he slept higher. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t meant to be.

Peter changed his clothes and packed his backpack. He was already a month into his last year in high school but it felt like he had already been doing math equations and exhausting his brain for months. He wished it were Christmas already. He liked the lights and the snow. It also gave him a chance to use the heater in his suit. It felt nice. Mostly because no one else had a heater in their clothes so he felt special.

Even though he was special. Teenage boy during the day but a crime-fighting Spider-Man at night. It was fun but very tiring. Peter couldn’t deny the mental stress both school and superhero business gave him. That’s why he wanted to zip around all of New York for a while yesterday. Pay some friends a few visits.

Doctor Strange hadn’t been too happy when Peter dropped by but Peter had suspected that. What he hadn’t been ready for was the girl he had with him. Peter didn’t know her. She looked nice and young. Maybe she would be going to school today? He could introduce himself! As Peter Parker...not Spider-Man.

Peter managed to shove his suit, spare clothes, his homework, and his colossal textbooks in his backpack. He skipped out his bedroom door, almost forgetting to brush his teeth. He slipped past Aunt May and kissed her cheek before snatching his breakfast from her. It was the bagel with strawberry cream cheese, just like he loved it.

“Thanks, May!” He called before he walked out of the apartment. “See ya!”

“Nuh uh uh. C’mere mister.” She said, snatching a fold of his sweater. Peter turned around and rolled his eyes when she straightened his shirt and frowned at his hair. “Goodness, Peter, you’re a mess. Tomorrow, don’t forget to comb your hair. Also, remember?”

Peter nodded. “Come home straight away and always leave a note while I’m out Spider-Man-ing. I know, I know.” Aunt May kissed his forehead and nudged him to the door.

“Good, I love you!” She smiled.

“I love ya too, Aunt May! Have a good day at work.”

She huffed. “I’ll try.”

Peter shut the door and punched the first floor on the elevator. He was bouncing on his toes. Excited to see his friends. Especially Michelle. He had taken a strong liking to her ever since she flat out told him that she knew he was Spider-Man ever since Homecoming. It was surprising and a relief at the same time. Mostly because they had gotten pretty close ever since then. He would say they’ve moved on from ‘loser level’ to ‘less loser level’. Peter assumed she had a friend level but had no clue if he was there yet. Ned chilled with them all the time, too. He teased Peter often about how close Michelle and he were getting.

It was just a friendship but sometimes that became a little muddy. Sadly, they hadn’t been talking recently. Not after Peter accidentally kissed her… He knew she wasn’t ready for that but it didn’t stop him from leaning in. The memory was blurry so he didn’t know if she kissed back. He didn’t mean to make her so uncomfortable but he couldn’t help how his heart burst when their lips touched.

He had to forget that for now. They were just friends today if they spoke to each other. Peter jumped out of the elevator and booked it across the street. He didn’t feel like taking the subway today. That’s why he left so early and hid the Spider-Man suit in his backpack. He was supposed to leave it at the apartment at all times but today felt like a day to rebel just a tad.

Peter snuck behind the apartment and only took off his clothes. He put the suit on and snapped his backpack on. He wasted no time and shot a web on a light post and flung himself on top. Peter sighed loudly and adjusted his eyes to the light.

“Hello, Peter Parker. Welcome back.” KAREN said once the AI activated. “It is rather early in the morning. Don’t we normally stop crime around seven in the evening?”

“Yeah, but today is special,” Peter replied, webbing a building and using his trajectory to leap off of its side to the next building. “We’re going to surprise MJ early at school.”

“Sounds exciting,” KAREN replied. “Is that why you are going against May’s rules?”

“What? No! I’m not going against her rules, per say…” Peter explained.

“Alright, if that is what you want me to think.”

“KAREN, we talked about this. You _can_ think for yourself.” He said, mid-swing.

“But I’m an AI, Peter. I’m not made to think for myself.”

 

Peter flinched when he landed in a squat on top of a roof only a couple buildings from the school. “I guess you could try?” He asked.

“I suppose so,” KAREN said.

The sun was finally rising, turning the sky pink. The white clouds fluffed in the world above him, giving off the softness and freedom that his heart felt. Peter knew this would surprise Michelle but he hoped it wouldn’t end badly. He just wanted to apologize without anyone around. No one knew except them. He’d like to keep it that way. Especially since he didn’t know how their friendship would be after they talked about that night.

Peter was nervous when he changed back into his normal clothes. KAREN had bid him good bye and good luck but that didn’t stop his palms from continuously sweating. The school parking lot was empty at this time. Only the teacher lot was almost filled. Peter was about an hour earlier than when his classmates usually showed up. Michelle was always here before everyone else so he had to be here even earlier.

Peter slung his backpack over his shoulders and walked in through the glass double doors. The school was heated today, wiping off the cold sweat running down Peter’s back. Swinging from building to building built up his adrenaline and sometimes got him a little tired. Especially with winter coming. Every time the snow fell he always felt rather sluggish and lazy. It was weird but not a complication for Peter. It annoyed him but it never got in his way.

There was a large atrium where early students could sit and talk before school started. It would suck if they had to wait outside in the cold. Especially when it started snowing. Peter spotted the dark and lonely corner that he normally saw Michelle sitting in, her nose in a book. Sometimes she’d be so into her book that he and Ned had to just talk. Other days she stopped reading to kind of engage in their conversations. Michelle wasn’t used to actually being a part of something, she was normally used to listening and observing something she thought she would never be a part of.

Peter slid his back down the wall and shoved his backpack off. No one else was in the atrium. It was silent, except for the soft echoing of teachers footsteps and the sound of locks clicking. His enhanced hearing helped him sense the teachers entering the building. At some points, he could hear their breathing almost as if they were standing right next to him. It was useful but it also got annoying when he could hear _everything_ around. Walls and doors got in the way but if it was out in the open he could catch the sounds of life about a hundred or so feet away.

Peter pulled out his phone and scrolled through his text messages. Nothing from Happy, but that wasn’t anything new. He never responded to anything Peter sent but Peter learned that he did read them so he sent them anyway. Ned had no new messages, nothing from May either. Typical morning. He exited from his messages and started playing a game. He couldn’t remember what it was called but all he really did was try to collect coins and power-ups. It was Peter’s pass time game. The game he only played when he was especially bored and had nothing better to do.

“That’s my spot, Parker.”

Peter looked up and saw Michelle frowning at him. Her dark eyes made him gulp and shiver. They always made him uneasy. Like she was always trying to pry his deepest darkest secrets from the hidden pit in his mind. It was especially creepy when she was mad. Her eyes were a void, a black hole. Ready to suck in anything that ticked her off. Peter hoped he wasn’t going to be that anything today.

“Uh, yeah,” Peter replied, finding his voice. “I thought… You know? Maybe it was super comfy or somethin—“

“Move. Get out.” She waved her arms and he got up quickly. Michelle sat down and crossed her legs. She blew a curly strand of hair from her eyes. “I know why you’re here early.” Michelle pulled out a book viciously and yanked her bookmark out. Peter flinched. An angry Michelle scared him more than cat burglars…

“R-really? Why _am_ I here so early?” Peter stammered, professionally un-avoiding the question.

Michelle leaned in and narrowed her eyes. Peter held her gaze and swallowed. She began to bite her lip and then pulled away.

“You want to talk about the kiss… Don’t you?” She said softly, looking away.

“Yeah, kinda…” Peter replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

Michelle sighed and patted the spot on the floor next to her. Peter took his seat and crossed his legs. He avoided eye contact with her if he did he would see the pain in her eyes. It probably was a hard thing for Michelle to think about. She probably _had_ been thinking about it, that’s why she’s been avoiding him for the past two weeks.

“We don’t have to if you’re not ready.” Peter suggested after the silence drew too long.

“No, no,” Michelle said. “I’m ready.”

“Okay--”

“I mean, no. I’m not.” She covered her face with her hands. Peter grimaced. Michelle had never looked so vulnerable and he felt really bad about putting her in this position. “I don’t mean about talking, I mean about the whole kiss. I wasn’t ready and I’m still not ready…”

Peter hung his head. “I… Understand.”

“No!” Michelle shouted. “You don’t!”

Peter flinched away and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Sorry.” She opened her eyes and looked at Peter. “What I’m trying to say is I’m not ready for this to change. Peter… I like this. What we’ve got going on. Is it wrong that I don’t want to be more than friends…?”

“Of course not!” Peter exclaimed. “They’re your feelings and they matter. That doesn’t make them wrong.”

Michelle held up her hand to silence him. “You didn’t let me finish. I don’t want to be more than friends but I do at the same time… I _like_ you, Peter Parker. I don’t know what it is about you but you really make me happy when you’re around. Happier than I’ve felt in a long time. I just… I don’t know what’s in store for us yet...but I want to try it.”

Peter’s heart jumped happily in his chest. Was this it? Were they actually going to try it?

“Okay.” He said plainly, trying to hide the excitement bubbling inside of him.

“Okay…” She replied softly.

He pulled her into a side hug and she sighed into his arm. He kissed her hair and rubbed her back affectionately.

“Thanks, Pete.”

“No prob, MJ.”

They sat there, arms on each other’s backs in an understanding silence. He looked down at MJ and his heart warmed. She was his for today, just his and he was hers. It felt good to belong to someone’s heart and it made him fill up with the warm feeling of love. He smiled and let her lay her head on his shoulder. Her soft and dark eyes stared ahead calmly and made him calmer. As Peter stared longer the blurred face of the girl he saw yesterday kept popping in his mind. It confused him and he kept trying to brush it away but it kept squirming its way into his thoughts. He felt like it was wrong to be thinking about this girl when he just got MJ. But he couldn’t help but wonder who she was and what she was going to do next. Would they ever meet? His shoulders tensed and he tried his hardest to erase the girl from his mind. It was wrong, every wrong. Peter just got someone to date him and he was already thinking about other girls?! Finally, he shoved the memory out of his mind and he relaxed a bit but he was still alert and feeling odd. He couldn’t explain it and he didn’t want to. Peter wanted to forget about it for today and just be MJ’s new boyfriend.

“You’re thinking about something,” MJ mentioned. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” He brushed it off. “Nothing at all…”

* * *

I stared long and hard at Samrah. Her eyes were different. Harder, determined. It was obvious she had heard our conversation about her magical training. It was obvious she had thought about it long and hard. It was obvious that she thought she was ready. I wasn’t but it had to be done now. There was no going back. Samrah knew and she looked hellbent on continuing what we had started.

I cleared my throat and it echoed against the lonely walls of the library.

“There are three rules I need you to follow if you’re to master sorcery quick and efficiently,” I said, pulling out a book and opening it to the first lesson the Ancient One had ever taught me.

“Number one, never use magic without my supervision.”

Samrah nodded her head.

“Number two, always listen to my instructions and follow them to the tee.”

Samrah nodded again.

“Number three… Never and I mean _never_ go to the third floor.”

Samrah nodded again. I nodded in response. I formed a sphere of magic in my hand and the entire library lit up with golden light. Samrah blinked and stared in awe at the ball as it sparked and fizzled in my hand.

“Great,” I said. “Then let’s begin.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We met when…” Samrah couldn’t bring herself to say the words. The words brought memories she didn’t want to remember. Dirty cheeks, dusty floors, smoky skies, burning buildings, sobbing, dust, dust, dust. It all faded to dust. It was pain. Pain everywhere, pain all the time. Samrah shuddered and looked at Ashton to answer the question.
> 
> “We found each other during the Dusting,” Ashton said softly.
> 
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I read other stories on here and really liked how they did their chapter summary. So I'm going to try that now and put that on all my chapters but phew! The fifth chapter is up! Yay! 
> 
> I hope you guys like it, there will be kind of some Samrah backstory stuff and little more Peter Parker! You get to meet one of Samrah's old friends and how they met. If you have any questions because I know that this might get a little confusing, just type me up a comment and I will answer all your questions! 
> 
> Enjoy! <3

“You can do it. Just concentrate.” I said. “The dimensional energy of the multiverse flows like a river. You can’t go against the currents of a river, you have to surrender to it and let it carry you through.”

“Okay...okay.” Samrah breathed, holding out her hands again. She had taken to the first exercise quickly and was already advancing to the sling-ring. Where it took me about three days to master the techniques Samrah had finished them in three hours. She was advancing quickly, much like I had after about a month of training. Samrah had an affinity for magic. I knew she would. She was just having a hard time with the sling-ring. Not a single spark. Just like me, and I wasn’t loving it.

“Samrah, you’re not doing what I’m telling you to do.” I sighed. Samrah stopped waving her hands. She smacked her lips together and closed her eyes slowly.

“I’m sorry. It’s just not working.” Samrah groaned and pulled out a chair. These past few days had been tough for her, I can tell. I had given her over twenty books to read in a matter of four days. I gave her every book I’ve ever read about sorcery. She did finish them all, I’m just afraid she didn’t sleep while she did it. When I read into the late hours of the night, I’d let my body rest and use my astral form to read. I haven’t taught Samrah how to do that yet. She needed to be in full control of her bodies energy to accomplish it and she looked absolutely exhausted.

“How about we take a break? You’ve been going nonstop for a long time.” I suggested.

Samrah nodded and stood up from her chair. She walked slowly to her room and I watched her sadly. I was pushing her way too hard. I could see it in the way her face scrunched up when she tried to cast a spell. Her fiery eyes were droopy and lost that spark of determination they held at the beginning.

The problem was we couldn’t stop for long. Just last night another Sand Demon had paid the Sanctum a visit. It was smaller than the first but it still scared the heck out of me. Wong was especially concerned, normally the Sand Demons stuck to their little dimension located near the Sahara Desert. Why they were in the humid and sticky air of New York City was beyond me. They’ve never been a problem until now. I had a sneaking suspicion that Samrah did have something to do with it. I could feel it in her magical aura. There was something very different about her. The feeling was cold and hot at the same time. Familiar, I knew I had felt it somewhere before.

Everything about Samrah was confusing. She was completely new and yet something I had seen before. It made my blood boil. In all my life, there was nothing that ever confused me. Even magic made sense to me now. Samrah made my patience stretch without even doing anything. Mostly because of the mystery around her. Normally I’m very good at reading people. Samrah was…words can’t even find a way to describe the feeling she gives me.

Lately, I’ve been talking to Christine a lot. She didn’t mind talking until midnight, in fact, it sounded like she enjoyed it. I did too. She was fun to share my worries with and she handed out really good advice. She even brought up the idea of sending Samrah to school. At first, it really shocked me. I had never really thought about sending Samrah to school or even to get an education. I could tell she was bright and she learned very quickly but she has never been to school before. Samrah told me once that she learned to read and write by herself. No one taught her anything. Samrah taught herself to speak, write and read in not only English but also Spanish, French, Sanskrit(which was very helpful), Portuguese, and German. I couldn’t believe she taught herself that in fifteen years. Then again, she did have fourteen years of sitting around an orphanage doing nothing on her hands.

Maybe I’d send her and maybe I wouldn’t. I didn’t know what to do with Samrah. Only time would tell what my next move would be.

My wards suddenly alerted me that an entity was moving swiftly to the Sanctum. They were approaching the front door. I grumbled and teleported myself downstairs. I felt the magic morph my body so that sudden transportation wouldn’t squash me into a million pieces. Teleporting without the use of a sling-ring was tricky business. If you lost your concentration for one second you could be lost to the infinity of time and space and there would be no going back.

Once I materialized in the main floor I heard the knocking. It was loud and extremely annoying so I knew exactly who it belonged to. I pondered for a moment if I should even open the door. As I thought about this the knocking got louder, so loud I could barely think.

“Strange! I know you’re in there! FRIDAY did a heat scan! Open the door!”

I rolled my eyes and used a blast of wind to knock the wooden doors open. Tony Stark stumbled in, holding a cardboard box in his arms. Once he caught his balance he glared at me. I returned the glare with just as much fury and finesse as he. He dusted off his jacket and stood up straight. I licked my lips and waited for him to do or say something. It looked like he was doing the same so I cleared my throat.

“I don’t need your money.” I snapped. “So, you can leave.”

“Peter was right, you’re just as cranky as ever, Wizard.” Stark retorted, showing himself in further. I could feel the Cloak of Levitation bristling on my shoulder. It despised Stark just as much as I did. Especially ever since he called it a cape. Let’s just say Stark had whiplash for a few days and insisted I pay for the doctor’s bill. Even though his friend Bruce Banner said that he did the checkup and no payment was needed. In the end, he didn’t get his money and looked like a white satellite for a week. I found it amusing and would forever store the incident in my memory for later blackmail.

“Just get out. I’m busy.” I bluntly replied.

“Uh-uh.” Stark tutted. “You used that excuse last month. Do try and come up with better reasons to get rid of me because I’ve been getting really good at this game you’re playing.”

I smiled mischievously. “Oh, really?”

Stark frowned. “I don’t like that look. Don’t you dar—“

I bent the particles and matter around the billionaire and he disappeared before he could finish his sentence. I wiped my hands on my tunic and turned to walk up the stairs. I looked up and I saw Wong standing there with his arms crossed.

“What?” I asked.

He walked down the stairs, an unamused look on his face. “Where did you send him?”

“Just the seventh circle of hell,” I explained nonchalantly.

“Stephen…”

“Okay, fine. I sent him to the Gobi Desert. He’ll be fine. There are great views of sand dunes and lots of poisonous snakes. Stark will love it.” I said.

“Bring him back,” Wong said sternly. I wasn’t about to take orders from Wong but I knew he would never let it down. And honestly, having Tony Stark as your enemy was dangerous business. He had enough enhanced and powerful people to give me a pain in the neck. Despite my growing distaste for the man I did as Wong told me and teleported Stark back to the Sanctum. It was kind of funny to watch him appear in the dining room red and sweaty. He was peeved but the look on his face and the sand in his gelled hair was worth it.

He slammed the package down on the dining table and gave me the childish, ‘I’m watching you’ fingers to the eyes. I returned the gesture and leaned back in the dining room chair. He shook the sand off of his black suit and stomped his way out of the Sanctum.

“It was nice seeing you, Stark!” I called after him.

“Oh, shut up!” He yelled back and the door slammed shut behind him. I heard him yelp on the other side and growl in fury. You’d think he’d be used to the door slamming on his butt by now. I’d made it a tradition to give him a helping shove when walking out the door. I waited until the wards signaled that he was well away from the Sanctum before I stood up. I grimaced when I saw the pale sand grains on the beautiful dark floors and realized I should’ve sent him somewhere less sandy and maybe more dusty. Dust was easy to sweep up but sand was a nightmare. Even when you used magic to dispose of it. The amount of sand I’d been finding in the floorboards from the demons was enough to drive me mad. This was my own doing but I didn’t regret sending him to the Gobi. I enjoyed every second of it. No matter how short-lived it may have been.

“I don’t understand why you have to be like that to him,” Wong commented while grabbing the box. “He’s only trying to help.”

“Yeah, sure, and I appreciate that but… I mean, have you seen him?” I asked. Wong gave me a blank stare. I continued,“He’s just a big, no good, run of the line, pain in the as—” I stopped mid-sentence when I saw Samrah standing on the steps. She was holding her hands in front of her innocently and looking at me with some sort of puppy dog eyes. Of course, they had no effect on me. No… Permanent effect… but no effect nonetheless.

“Stephen?” She called down.

“Yes, Samrah?” I answered.

She fiddled with her fingers nervously. “Am I allowed to go to the roof?”

I thought about it for a moment. What an odd question. I didn’t even know there was a way to go up to the roof. I had no reason not to let her up to the roof but I wanted to take her somewhere first. Every training sorcerer or sorceress should have a chance to visit the place where it all happened.

“Sure, but after we make a little trip,” I said, smiling. I looked at Wong as he carried the box to the kitchen. He grinned and nodded in agreement. He approved of my plan. Not that I needed his approval but it was good to have it. Samrah came down the stairs and stood next to me. “You’ve already read all about it.”

I took my sling-ring from my belt and opened a fizzling circular portal.

“I think it’s about time you see it.”

* * *

 

Samrah shielded her eyes and winced. The sudden change in light from the darkness of the Sanctum to the brightness of the sun made it very hard for her eyes to adjust. She kept blinking to keep the sunlight from blinding her and she was halfway successful. When her vision cleared she held her own hand and had to keep her heart from stopping in her chest. There were people crawling all over. Each one wearing robes and tunics much like Stephen’s. Except, each one was a different color specifically matched for each person. They all looked different but had the same goal in their eyes. Determination, the flame of passion, a desire to learn and gain more than they already had. Samrah reflected on herself for just a second. What drove her to the next day? Survival?

All of Samrah’s instincts built over years of solitude told her to get out of this place as soon as possible. Yet, there was something alluring about the plaza she found herself in. It felt much like the Sanctum, just less mysterious and foreboding. This buzz of energy wouldn’t keep her up at night, it would lure her to sleep and let her have sweet dreams filled with flowers that smelled of honey. It was welcoming and very calming. Before she knew it, her muscles had calmed down and the death grip on her hand had ceased. Stephen looked like he noticed her discomfort and looked like he was regretting bringing her here but she straightened her back and gave him a small smile. She wanted to be here, no matter how nervous it made her.

The plaza was glorious. Old brick stacked upon each other in glorious architecture spirals. Silver melted with golden light and shone out against a stark blue sky. The sky was cloudless and the air was warm. It felt like spring here, unlike the desperate breeze of winter back at New York City. This didn’t look like anywhere in America. The buildings were too ancient and the air smelled of memories, new and old. The energy itself felt old. Like it had been etched into the very stone floors her black flats stood on. It weaved into the emerald green leaves of thick built trees, their trunks just as twisted and worn from age as everything else surrounding her. She knew where she was. She’d read about it in her books.

This was where Stephen had learned the Mystic Arts. This was Kamar-taj. The beginning of it all.

“You could’ve used the door in the library.” Someone muttered to Stephen.

Stephen didn’t reply but glared at them. Stephen’s gaze was always even and stone cold but his eyes held a different story from what he showed in his demeanor. He glanced at Samrah and she saw it again. The look in his eyes was different from every other look he gave everyone else. This look held so much emotion that Samrah couldn’t decipher all of them, and she could learn a lot by looking at people’s eyes. It made them easier to read, like a book with their pages opened wide. There were some who very good at hiding their emotions through their eyes. Stephen was one of them but he would often slip up and let Samrah catch a glimpse of just what was going on inside his head. Sometimes it made sense and sometimes it was beyond her understanding. Nothing in her life ever fully made sense so she made do with what she had.

Stephen gestured to Samrah for her to follow him. She did as she was told and began to weave in out of a sea of people just to keep up with him. Stephen’s legs were long, longer than hers so it took a while to catch up to him. Every time she did catch up, though, he’d move faster and start leaving her behind in the crowd. Samrah didn’t like crowds. The literally dumped all of their energy on her and it suffocated her. At some points, she could barely remember who she was in the midst of everyone’s identities. It was horrifying but Samrah had taught herself how to remember, even if she didn’t know quite who she was. It took longer than Samrah would’ve liked today. The stream of vitality from the crowd carried her farther away down their river of emotions than she would’ve liked. She had to focus on pulling her own energy from that of the others and it was a slow and grueling process. Samrah was so engulfed in doing so that she didn’t see the person she bumped into.

Her chest collided first and then her feet gave out from beneath her. The jolt of the impact snapped her back into her own mind and she desperately tried to right herself. Her arms spun widely in circles but to no avail. Samrah’s butt hit the stone hard and shocked pain up her spine. She let out an oof when her head smacked the ground and spots danced in her eyes. She could hear people gasp and the repeated ‘sorry’s’ of the person she ran into. Samrah was trying to catch her breath when a strong hand hauled her up.

“Samrah put your hands above your head and breathe in deeply. You got the air knocked out of you.” It Stephen’s voice and she immediately did as she was told, taking in a deep breath and feeling her lungs inflate with oxygen.

“I am so, so, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” It was another voice. Female, young, and had the sound of a fearless warrior. Once Samrah could see right again and pulled her arms down by her side and continued to breathe deeply. Samrah looked up and focused on the girl in front of her. She was about Samrah’s age, maybe a couple years older. Her pale skin was framed by a frizz of bright orange hair and her eyes were like rolling hills of green grass blowing in a still wind. Samrah blinked a few times before her mind processed and clicked. She knew the voice and she knew the face. The only difference is that the face was cleaner, stronger, and the eyes were filled with hope and light.

“Ashton?” Samrah asked. The girl’s eyes widened and she smiled.

“Samrah?! How did I not recognize you?!” Ashton cried.

“Maybe because I’m wearing different clothes and my hair is longer?” Samrah asked, confused.

Ashton laughed and pulled Samrah into a tight hug. Samrah felt the air rush from her lungs again and she gasped in pain. Ashton didn’t let go, though. If anything, her hug increased in vigor.

“Oh my gosh! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!”

“Yeah… Me too.” Samrah wheezed.

“Oh, sorry!” Ashton said, letting go of Samrah so she could breathe right. She sat on her knees and tilted her head, looking Samrah up and down. “Wow, you’ve changed a lot. Have you gotten taller?”

Samrah chuckled. “Nope. Still five foot four.”

“Oh, whatever! I can’t believe it!” Ashton ran her hand through her hair. “When I lost you in that building with those people… I thought I’d never see you again…”

Stephen cleared his throat, indicating that he was still standing near them. Samrah blushed, in her excitement she had forgotten that he was there.

“How do you two know each other? I thought you’ve been kept in an orphanage your whole life, Samrah. Was she from the orphanage?” Stephen asked, holding out a hand to help Samrah to her feet. Samrah went to take it but paused...and then took it. He hauled her up and Samrah dusted herself off.

“We met when…” Samrah couldn’t bring herself to say the words. The words brought memories she didn’t want to remember. Dirty cheeks, dusty floors, smoky skies, burning buildings, sobbing, dust, dust, dust. It all faded to dust. It was pain. Pain everywhere, pain all the time. Samrah shuddered and looked at Ashton to answer the question.

“We found each other during the Dusting,” Ashton said softly.

The whole plaza fell into a deathly silence. Hearing the words was different than saying them but it made Samrah’s body remember the pain… The anguish and the fear. She shook it out of her head and tried to tell herself it was over. Everyone was fine, everything was fine, and the energy of the bodies around her was real. They weren’t fading into a pool of black abyss…

Stephen looked confused like the words meant something to him but he didn’t know what they meant. After a while, his eyes flashed in horrible recognition and pain. He knew what Ashton was talking about now and it looked like he was trying to forget too. Was he a victim of the abyss? Perhaps that’s why he hadn’t recognized it at first but he looked like a person who would’ve faced the events of the Dusting head on. Like a participating member in one who gave his all to keep it from happening. If so, then what kept him from fixing it? Samrah didn’t want to think about it and maybe she’d ask about it later but right, it looked like he wanted to show her something.

“Well, um, I guess I’ll leave you guys to do whatever—”

Samrah cut Ashton off by grabbing her hand. Samrah didn’t like touching people. When she touched people she saw things she didn’t want to and wasn’t supposed to see. Today wasn’t a time for that because Samrah didn’t see anything the moment their skin touched. Instead, Samrah looked at Ashton with pleading eyes.

“Please, stay,” Samrah said.

Stephen grumbled and Samrah knew he probably only wanted him and Samrah to wander around Kamar-taj but Samrah would feel more at ease with a friend with her. Besides, they had a lot of catching up to do since the last they saw each other and Samrah wanted to know everything. She could tell Ashton wanted to know what happened after the building collapsed too and they would talk about that. When Samrah was ready. The memories were still buried for a reason, so many were. Maybe someday Samrah would be willing to unearth them once more but not right now. Not until she absolutely had to.

Ashton nodded and Stephen rolled his eyes.

“Fine, but we’ll have to be quick. I’m sure _Ashton_ has somewhere to be soon.” He commented, leading the way once more.

“Yeah, I have to be home soon or my parents will freak out. I’m in enough trouble as it is.” Ashton replied. Samrah walked beside Ashton with a small smile on her face. For now, she was only focusing on Ashton’s energy, not the energy of people around her. And she noticed how good it felt to have a friend. Even if it wasn’t forever, it was for today.

* * *

 

Peter was crouched low, silent and hopefully unnoticeable. He had been sitting on this roof for hours. Watching, waiting. It was a school night so he knew he shouldn’t be out this late but he couldn’t stand just sitting in his room until nightfall. His homework was done, Ned was busy, Michelle was off doing gosh knows what, and May was still at work. May was working late tonight and didn’t need to know Peter was staying out past his curfew. He _needed_ to be out here. Whether he was just observing or chasing ATM robbers.

Tonight was rather uneventful so his mind had been prone to wandering. And it when it wandered, it wandered to her. That girl with Doctor Strange. Dang it, he didn’t know why his thought always drifted to her but there was a sense of mystery hanging around the girl whose face he hadn’t seen. It was thought snatching and interesting and he couldn’t help but want to see that girl again. He didn’t even know if she was still with Doctor Strange or not but that didn’t keep him from trying.

The building he was perched upon was directly across from Doctor Strange’s Sanctum. It was dusk and the sky was fading to twinkling stars. The air was chilling and he asked KAREN to turn on the heater that Mr. Stark had conveniently installed into his suit. As much as he hated all the extra tech in his suit set by Mr. Stark to keep him in line, he was sometimes grateful for it. If he ever got lost, the tracker would help anyone find him. What he wished he would’ve added to the suit was an oxygen tank or something of that sort. He’d been thrown into a multitude of lakes and rivers since the Vulture and managed to get out on his own successfully alive but it was a pain in the neck when he had to struggle to breathe and swim at the same time.

Peter yawned. He didn’t know how long he’d been up here but he could wait a tad longer before giving up and heading home. It was then that he saw a latch opening up on the roof. Peter held his breath and he stayed deathly still. He saw the faint outline of a head peep out of the hole where the latch was. It was the girl, he knew it. She was still there. His heart pounded in his ears and he felt sick to his stomach. He shouldn’t be doing this. Peter should be leaving the girl alone, he shouldn’t even be thinking about her. Her shirt was pale pink against the new starlight and her hair was raven black. He couldn’t get a good look at her from this far away, even with his enhanced sight.

“Would you like me to take a closer look?” KAREN asked.

“No,” Peter said, nearly breathless. “I-I don’t think I wanna see what she looks like just yet.”

There was a pause. “Why is that?”

Peter sighed as he watched the girl come up and sit near the golden railing of the Sanctum, her hair billowing in the wind. He fidgeted for a second. What was keeping him from going up to her and introducing himself?  He was literally a swing away. What was he afraid of? That she wouldn’t like him or something? He was Spider-Man right now. Not Peter Parker. Of course, she would like him, but that wasn’t the issue, was it? Gah, Peter didn’t know what was wrong with him. She was so close and yet he wanted to stay so far away. He should do it. He should go say ‘hello’ or anything. Maybe it would put his mind at ease.

He felt his phone buzz in his hidden pocket within his suit. It wasn’t Ned’s ringtone, it was Michelle’s. Peter considered ignoring her phone call but thought better of it. He looked down at his phone which had a picture of him and Michelle on it. They had only been dating for less than a week and he felt closer to her than ever. They spent a lot of time with each other but most of that time Peter spent distracted by something else. He took one last look at the girl on the roof. She was standing now, almost like she was squinting into the distance to see if someone was out there watching her. Peter wrenched his eyes away and answered the phone. He shot a single web to the next building and tried to pry his thoughts from the feeling of the girl’s eyes being glued to his distant form. He needed to put as much distance between him and her before he changed his mind.

Michelle spoke up and asked the standard ‘hello’.

Peter held his breath, torn between answering her and going back to watch the girl. He let it go and held the phone to his ear, making up his mind.

“Hey, Michelle. What’s up?”

He turned his back to the mysterious girl and walked back into Michelle’s calming voice. This is where he belonged. Then why did he feel so out of place?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samrah’s thoughts fled in a panic, her concentration cracking slowly. She fought to hold onto the stream she was currently in but she kept slipping up time after time. Finally, she lost her hold. She felt herself plummet into the darkness below and her screaming voice joined the others. She could hear them. They were closer! Where were they? ...They couldn’t be…
> 
> Were the voices trapped in the void?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I really busted my butt on this one! Thank you all for waiting so long! I know, I know. It bugs me too that I can't get these chapters out when I want. >:( As always, don't forget to leave a comment and a kudos if you liked the story! I'm always open to suggestions, critique and just chat about the story! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the sixth chapter! <3

Samrah didn’t know how long she sat cross-legged in front of the giant window, all she knew is that it was calming. It dulled the voices in her mind down to a whisper. She had to deal with the Sanctum’s intimacy on a daily basis, even at night. The only time she got a decent sleep was when she put earbuds in. Stephen bought them for her, along with a phone. How he afforded it she had no idea. He didn’t work anywhere but at the Sanctum and keeping reality safe didn’t seem like a high paying job.

Stephen had gone out today. Maybe to go to his mysterious job where he got his money from? Samrah didn’t know, she didn’t think it was her business to know where he went or why he was doing it. She didn’t question what he did or what he asked her to do. She knew it was for a reason and from what he told her about the world he lived in, one wrong move and you could lose everything. She took everything Stephen said like her life depended on it. Because it probably did.

Samrah’s eyes were shut and she was breathing slowly. She was trying to channel the Sanctum’s energy into a blockade, to keep the voices out of her head. Stephen hadn’t taught it to her, he hadn’t shown her anything even close to what she was trying to do. She just hoped that she could figure it out on her own. If she imagined it happening hard enough, maybe it could happen. Stephen had taught her how to connect with the Sanctum’s mystical energy so she could use the wards to sense anybody approaching the Sanctum directly. He told her to picture the energy like a web of light. Pulsing and flowing through the magical house like multiple connected rivers. She told Stephen that she could feel it but she didn’t tell him was that she could actually see it.

The flow, the light, the energy ebbing and twisting and turning in every room. Every staircase, every wall, every fiber of this house. It spread like spider webs across the floorboards and stretched like the currents of a river up the walls. It was hard to explain. The light was always contrasted by bleak darkness. A pit of unfathomable black and cold. If she didn’t focus on a strain of energy, she could feel her concentration slipping into the black void. It was chilling and required her total attention. If anything snapped her out of focus she’d either come back to reality or find herself falling in a swirling pool of darkness.

The process of taxing and extremely tiring so by the time Samrah could actually see the magic flow, she was already breathing hard, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead. Samrah found it, the string of magic that existed as the wards. It felt different from the rest of the strings. It resembled the essence of Stephen and that was to be expected. She could sense a little but of Wong’s but most of it was Stephen’s doing. It was overly complex and far beyond Samrah’s understanding. Afterall, she could barely open a portal with her sling-ring, which resided in her front pocket. It wasn’t the most ideal place to put a rather large and metal magical artifact but it was the only place she knew she could put it and not forget.

Samrah enveloped herself in the mystical energy and searched through its properties. Samrah saw a spell a lot like code in a computer. The code could tell the computer what to do through instructions that were typed in. A spell was kind of the same concept. There little bits and pieces of magic that had different meanings and purposes to form a spell. It wasn’t hard to find the individual piece that alerted anyone of an approaching entity. It was colored different from the rest, that made it easy for her to find. But then again, it made it easy for _anyone_ to find. Samrah used her own magic as a tether. It connected a part of her consciousness with the alerting ward so that no matter where she went or how little she thought of it, she would always be able to feel the ward work when someone approached the door.

Samrah thrust herself out of the ward stream and decided to go and find someway to make the whispering voices in her head stop. She couldn’t hear them now, she was probably too far away or they just weren’t making any noise. Samrah thought she would know which stream of magic it was by the sound of it but as she glided from strand to strand, she couldn’t hear them anywhere. Not a single voice, not a sound. It felt odd to not have the voices bombarding her head. It had felt normal after she had gotten used to it, she felt lonely, weird, incomplete. It was for the best, though. They bothered just as much as she relied on them.

Samrah was about to jump to the next stream when she heard them. The voices… They were here. Somewhere. Samrah tried to search the energy strands to pinpoint their location but she couldn’t. It was like they weren’t in any of the streams of magic. They were all around her, though. Echoing, calling, screaming, crying, and howling. Where were they? They sounded like they were in trouble! She had to find them and help them. If she could.

Samrah’s thoughts fled in a panic, her concentration cracking slowly. She fought to hold onto the stream she was currently in but she kept slipping up time after time. Finally, she lost her hold. She felt herself plummet into the darkness below and her screaming voice joined the others. She could hear them. They were closer! Where were they? ...They couldn’t be…

Were the voices trapped in the void? As they grew louder Samrah realized _she_ was in the void. Her panic rose and she desperately tried to get back up to the stream of the Sanctum as it floated farther and farther away. Louder, louder, farther, farther. Samrah was drifting slowly now. Her thoughts a mess and her throat felt raw from screaming, even though she distinctly knew she didn’t have a throat in this plane of existence. In this plane she had no way of going back now that she was in the dark abyss of nothing.

She had no hope of reaching herself---

Samrah felt a tug on her magical energy. She was flung up like a rag doll for a split second. And then she continued to drift down farther. She felt it again, throwing her up farther this time before letting her back down. The tug felt familiar to her distant and jumbled thoughts. Samrah was thrown up again, harder and harder. As she saw the lights of the Sanctum draw closer she realized that it was the tether to the ward that was pulling her up. How was it doing that, though? It wasn’t possible unless someone else was yanking it…

Samrah gasped for air and her eyes snapped open. Her eyesight adjusted and she noticed she was staring at the ceiling. The dark mahogany of the Sanctum was welcoming, a sweet relief. Her heartbeat resumed it’s thudding and filled her lungs with breath and her limbs with life. Her hands were tingling like they had been asleep for hours. Samrah closed her eyes slowly, tasting the pleasant air that her mouth sucked in. When she opened them again she met the sharp, disapproving eyes of Stephen. Samrah felt like she was dying all over again because his gaze was sharper than a knife and more terrifying than any abyss she could fall into.

“You can see it all, can’t you?” He said curtly, his voice edged with anger.

Samrah looked away for a moment. “Yes…”

Stephen pursed his lips and cursed himself. “I should’ve known that would happen.” He held out his hand and Samrah hesitated to take it. Stephen grunted and grabbed her hand and yanked her up. When Samrah had successfully landed on her feet, Stephen turned away, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Stephen, I--” She was cut off when he abruptly faced her. His eyes were laced with fury and his brows were crunched in worry. His voice was quick and to the point and cut into Samrah’s gut like a dagger.

“I _told_ you to only stay to the _one_ current.” He snapped. “I _TOLD_ you _NOT_ to be distracted by the others and I SPECIFICALLY told you NOT TO GO INTO THE ABYSS! IF YOU COULD EVEN SEE IT AT ALL!”

Samrah flinched and looked away, tears brimming in her eyes. She knew what he was saying was true. He had told her all of that, she listened, sort of. The look in his eyes, the tone in his voice… It made Samrah want to curl up in her bed and disappear for a month. His anger could shake a mountain. Stephen took a deep breath and rubbed his hands on his face. They were shaking more than normal. She couldn’t imagine what he thought when he saw her lying on the ground… Pale, lifeless, barely breathing…

“I’m sorry.” Samrah squeaked out. Her voice lost on her.

“You’re _sorry?_ ” Stephen cleared his voice and lowered his volume. “Sorry doesn’t fix it.” He paused for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me you could see it? The energy of the Sanctum? I asked you and you said no.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Were you afraid?” He asked.

“I… don’t know.” She replied again.

“What do you mean you don’t know?! They’re _your_ thoughts!” Stephen shouted.

Samrah flinched again.

“You’re lucky I was here and _I_ was lucky you tethered yourself to the ward. That’s the one thing I asked you to do that you did!”

“I’m sorry…” She said again, squeezing her hands until they were white. They were starting to lose feeling, again. Samrah thought she deserved it, though. She’d made him so angry. All she could think of was the voices. She should tell Stephen about the voices but something inside of her was telling her no. Her instincts have always kept her from danger, Samrah would listen to them. They were reliable. She hoped…

Stephen took another deep breath and he seemed to calm down. He noticed Samrah’s death squeeze on her own hands and gently pried them apart. “I forgive you. Just… Don’t do it again. Remember rule number two?”

Samrah stiffened. She did and she broke it. “Always follow my instructions,” Samrah repeated as the words came to mind.

“Of course, you remember…” He muttered under his breath. “I have some new clothes for you in your room. I bought four pairs of socks and all the other things girls like you need. Almost all, I guess… I’ll let Christine do that with you.” Stephen turned to walk down the stairs. Samrah’s interest now perked, she followed him. The anger from their earlier conversation seemed to slip off his shoulders. Which was good for her because she had some questions that might have made him irritated if he were still angry.

“Who’s Christine?” Samrah asked, trying to catch up with him. Her short legs did not allow her to cover as much distance as his legs did. Stephen’s long strides carried him confidently down the stairs while Samrah was tripping over her own feet. His face was cool and calm but he didn’t look at her once. That made it hard for her to tell is he was still angry or not but at least he wasn’t yelling at her anymore.

“She’s a friend of mine.” His eyes sparked for a single moment. A moment so small that not just anybody could notice. Samrah noticed, she noticed everything that shone in his eyes. He probably didn’t notice how much he showed Samrah through the rounded windows of sight. They were intelligent and wise but his eyes still held the fire of youth. “She’s coming over tonight. She is really excited to meet you.”

Samrah heart fell to her stomach. They were expecting company? That would’ve been better to know so she could prepare. Even though she had gotten used to being around Wong and Stephen, social interacting still made her a bit queasy. She blamed it on her years of solitude. It wasn’t her fault that none of the caretakers would let her outside or to school or anywhere for that matter. She had barely left the fifth of the orphanage during her time there. Samrah was sure Christine was nice woman. The spark in Stephen’s eyes told her so. That fleeting moment was filled with pride, remorse, anger, sadness, happiness, and so much more. He had so many emotions to describe her in one moment but it was always different when he looked at Samrah. His eyes held emotions that were unreadable and Samrah still couldn’t figure it out. Why…

“Oh.” Samrah replied quietly.

Stephen sighed as they reached the end of the staircase. “I know how you feel about new people but I feel like this is preparation for you. Also, Christine hasn’t stopped nagging more for weeks about arranging a time for her to meet you.”

“Preparation?” Samrah asked. What would socializing with Christine help her with? Maybe it would increase her ability to open a Sling-Ring portal. That made her excited but Stephen’s answer brought a whole new anxiety that was much larger than any dinner would bring her.

“It’s preparing you for school, Samrah. I’ve decided to send you.”

Samrah felt her legs wobble as her breath was stolen from her. She felt like she was dying all over again. The world spun around her and she fought to keep her balance. Stephen noticed her distraught and put on arm around her body. It was warm and comforting but also tense. It seemed to bother him as much as it did her. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know the answer to most things he decided upon. Samrah knew he probably meant well...but going into the school year when it’s barely begun with students she doesn’t know, teachers she doesn’t know, with hallways she’s not familiar with, with crowds of sweaty teenager, with stacks of homework, with more stress than she gets normally, late nights studying schoolwork and the Mystic Arts… The list was endless. She would have complained and made him think otherwise but there was a certain excitement in her too. Samrah had always wanted to go to school and begged the orphanage caretakers to pay for her to go but she was always refused.

“What school am I going to?” Samrah asked.

“I don’t quite remember the name but it’s down in Queens.” Stephen glanced at Samrah and rolled his eyes once another panic attack washed over. “Oh, you’ll be fine. It’s full of nice students and teachers. Okay? Stop freaking out. I promise it will be okay.” His voice softened and the sharp glare in his eyes receded. “I wouldn’t have chosen it if I knew it would be wrong for you.”

Samrah nodded, she understood but it didn’t stop her from worrying. Something gave her the feeling that this school would bring another unexpected and unwanted change in her life.

* * *

 Peter kicked his feet underneath the seat. He was waiting in the office. The principal had called him up from the fifth hour and it made him a little nervous. He wasn’t called to the principal’s office often. Except for that one time he ditched detention. Peter hadn’t gotten a huge punishment for it. Just a week’s worth of _more_ detention and it didn’t bother him one bit. It had given him a chance to catch up on schoolwork he had missed chasing the Vulture.

The click of a lock and the opening of a door caught his attention. Behind the secretaries desk to the right, the door to the principal’s office creaked open. To the normal hearing of a kid his age, the opening and creak of hinges would have been completely silent. But he heard it. Every little squeak of screws and bolts working to move the door open and closed. It made him appreciate craftsmanship a little more since he could hear and see how it worked better thanks to his improved spider-senses.

Peter sat up quickly when the principal motioned for him to come inside. He entered the office and the door shut behind him. The principal offered a seat but Peter refused. Something told him he wasn’t going to be in here for very long and he wasn’t in trouble. It looked like the principal just wanted to talk to him. Nothing to worry about… He hoped.

“Peter, you’re probably wondering why I brought you in here.” He said.

Peter nodded. Wasn’t it obvious?

The principal leaned back in his vinyl, black office chair. The wheels squeaked beneath his weight and the vinyl moaned. The chair was obviously old but it looked like it was in great condition. The vinyl was a shiny ebony and the armrests were still in working condition.

“There’s a new student coming tomorrow.”

Peter’s interest piqued. They didn’t get new students often. It was a rare occasion mostly due to the fact that Queens was small and this was the only school close enough for kids without a subway card, vehicle or any other form of travel to get to. He’d been going to school with the same kids for years. Some moved away and others came to replace them but again, it was rare for it to happen. Especially so close to the middle of the year.

“They’ve never been to public school before and I’m counting on you to make them feel welcome.” The principal added, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together.

“Why me?” Peter asked.

“You’re kind, relatable, and have been here longer than most students here. Plus, you’re a Senior and she’s going to be a Sophomore. Also, I feel like you’ll be a great guide and first friend. Her father--er--guardian said she’s extremely shy and nervous. You’ll be a great match.” He explained.

Peter tilted his head. He didn’t know how that added up. Sure, Peter was quiet most of the time but his personality was rather spontaneous and excitable. Nothing he thought would mesh well with someone who was reserved and shy. It wasn’t his decision to make, though. If the principal thought he’d be good for it then he must be. How hard could it be? All he had to do was show her around for a while and then he was done. Easy peasy.

“Okay.” Peter agreed.

“Thank you, Peter. You can go back to fifth period.”

Peter nodded and showed his way out the door, out the office, and into the hallways. The hall was silent, except for the pat of his shoes against the white tile. It echoed off the lonely green lockers stacked upon each other in height that nearly reached the ceiling. He passed by his locker, the bottom slightly dented from all the time he’s picked it up and dropped it back down. His fifth hour was near his locker. Just ten steps from it, actually, if he kept his stride even. The hour was his least favorite. English and literature never excited him. He really felt no purpose in finding figurative language or voice from an author. He had Honor’s Biochemistry next which made him excited. He liked tampering with chemicals. Especially when it gave him a chance to create new web formula’s. This next one he was working on would hopefully not dissolve when water hit it.

Just before he opened the door, the silhouette of the girl on the rooftop slid into his mind. He paused, surprised and confused. He hadn’t thought about the girl in about a week. Why did she suddenly wiggle her way into his thoughts? What was it about this girl that made him not forget her? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone and move on. It was insane, crazy. It was a _problem._ He had a _girlfriend._ He shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else besides Aunt May, Ned and Mr. Stark. He shoved the image from his mind and opened the door.

His gut wrenched when he noticed Michelle staring at him. She noticed his hesitation to open the door. She noticed everything about him… Well, not _everything._ Wait, no, he took that back.

***

Peter couldn’t sleep that night. He was tossing and turning. Unable to find a perfect position for sleep. It wasn’t the same dream tonight. It was different and it terrified him. It was filled with darkness, infinite darkness. No light, nothing. It was cold and empty, he could barely even smell the comforting scent of his bedsheets through the nightmare.

There were voices whispering and screaming all around him. It punched and pounded his head like multiple bombs. The pain was sharp and unrelenting. He felt like screaming but he had no mouth and no sound in this inky abyss of nothing. He was in pain, it felt like it had that day before another form of blackness took life from him. Agony, pain, and agony. It was mindless pain, mindless and silent screaming, he couldn’t escape it. Fresh fire, raining from his eyelids. The fire flew around him and the blackness was no longer blackness.

The fire swirled around him in great torrents of heat. It was impressive and terrifying. Beautiful and malicious. It drew him to it, licking on the side of his thoughts and consuming his sight. The fire morphed and shaped, always changing and sparking with intense fury. Finally, they took form. Fiery eyes with the abyss of the darkness as the pupils. They stared at him and consumed everything he was. He no longer felt like screaming and just drifted in the madness of fire and fury.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why aren’t you Sorcerer Supreme?”
> 
> Despite its simplicity, the question still gave me shock. I asked the question myself often and got nowhere. I really didn’t know why I always refused the offer. We needed one more than ever now to defend Earth. Everyday, word of the Ancient One’s absence spread. Even though I defended the Earth like a Sorcerer Supreme, for some reason, I was hesitant to claim it. Even two years of studying, constant reminders that I was far above proficiency, and the fact that I wore the Eye of Agamotto around like an accessory… You’d think I would wear the name with pride. I just didn’t feel ready. Like I had to prove myself more and more everyday. Whether it was defeating the Master of Death, the Keeper of Dreams, Thanos, Dormammu, or anyone I was faced against. Something never just felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. This feels so rushed and terrible. I’ll think about editing it later I just really needed to get this out there. Hope it’s not too bad!

Samrah was nervous and sweaty. I could tell.  

Her fork kept slipping through her fingers and into her pasta. It was amusing but also sad to watch. I didn’t understand why she got so worked up about meeting new people but I could tell that it was a struggle for her. Her red, orange and yellow eyes kept darting around, sweat beaded slowly down her forehead and it looked like she couldn’t breathe. She refused to look at Christine which in turn, made Christine extremely uncomfortable.

Wong and I sat in an eerie pool of silence. The only sound that shattered it was the clinking of forks against porcelain. Neither of us knew what to say to get a conversation started. I wasn’t much of a social butterfly myself. The only time I could actually talk to people for hours on end was when I was talking about myself. I’ve learned to grow out of that, though. Kind of… It was a small accomplishment, sure, but I was still making leaps and bounds. Or at least I liked to see it that way.

Christine made the pasta. It was quite delightful. Long and thick egg noodles piled on top of each other, smothered with creamy white sauce and topped with small green flecks of parsley. There were small chunks of chicken hidden in each layer of noodle and sauce. It was cooked to perfection with just the right amount of golden brown crusting the top. The blend of salt to pepper and garlic was just mind-blowing. It was obvious that Christine had put a lot of time and love into making this dish. Then again, she did that with everything.

“The food is really good. Thank you…”

My head perked up a bit as I wound some noodles around my fork. I was surprised to see that it was Samrah who had made the comment. She was looking at Christine hopefully, probably waiting for a response. She still looked nervous but Samrah was pushing herself out of her comfort zone. I smiled a little bit and took a bite. _That’s my girl._ My smile disappeared and I nearly choked on a noodle. Since when was Samrah, _my girl_? I swear, these thoughts aren’t mine.

Christine flashed a bright smile in her direction, grateful for her saying so. She showed and said it. “You’re quite welcome, Samrah. I’m glad you like it! I’ve been trying to improve my cooking ever since Stephen said it was so bad.” She glanced in my direction and I laughed. Nearly choking on my food again.

 _Darn it! Why does she always bring this up?_ I thought. It was just a little joke they had between them. Christine didn’t use to be good at cooking, in fact, she used to burn anything and everything she touched. Not kidding, she even _burned_ ice cream. It was a freezer burn but a burn nonetheless. One night, I finally told her we should just order take-out or something. Christine had been confused because I never complained about her food. She asked why and I confessed that her cooking was _terrible_! She had stared at me for a few seconds until she burst out into laughter. We both laughed a lot that night… That was two weeks before the crash.

I smiled to myself as Christine recalled the story to the rest of the table. We passed the night away with laughter and some small talk. Wong was enjoying himself, I was enjoying myself, Christine was definitely enjoying herself, even Sarmah was having a good time. She laughed the most. There was a happy light behind her eyes tonight. A spark that seemed ignite only every once in a while. I’ve decided that I’d give up on trying to figure Samrah out. It was too much work to figure someone out who was always changing and surprising me.

In fact, Samrah had surprised me when she asked me a simple question. It was small, really. Concise and to the point.

“Why aren’t you Sorcerer Supreme?”

Despite its simplicity, the question still gave me shock. I asked the question myself often and got nowhere. I really didn’t know why I always refused the offer. We needed one more than ever now to defend Earth. Every day, word of the Ancient One’s absence spread. Even though I defended the Earth like a Sorcerer Supreme, for some reason, I was hesitant to claim it. Even two years of studying, constant reminders that I was far above proficiency, and the fact that I wore the Eye of Agamotto around like an accessory… You’d think I would wear the name with pride. I just didn’t feel ready. Like I had to prove myself more and more every day. Whether it was defeating the Master of Death, the Keeper of Dreams, Thanos, Dormammu, or anyone I was faced against. Something never just felt right.

The night passed by quickly. With me chiming in every once in a while to add thoughts or crack a small joke. Overall, the evening was enjoyable, save for the thoughts turning themselves over in mind. Sorcerer Supreme was still bothering me even after Christine left and gave me hug that sent a jolt down my spine and made my cheeks redden slightly. Even when my head hit the pillow, the conflict within my mind did not settle. I knew tonight was not going to be filled with sweet dreams and well-deserved sleep. In fact, Sorcerer Supreme wasn’t the only thing bothering me tonight. The thought about sending Samrah to school tomorrow made my stomach knot in three ways.

The dark ceiling wasn’t helping either. Normally when something kept me awake, I just stared at the ceiling til my eyelids felt heavy and sleep washed over me. Dreams weren’t on my side tonight because I didn’t even feel tired but I knew I had to let my body rest somehow. I sighed and adjusted my back against my mattress and closed my eyes. I slowly reached into the back of my mind, the Pocket, I liked to call it. It’s where I stored extra energy and power when I needed it and where I found it easiest to Astral Project. I plunged into it and yanked powerfully. My consciousness was flung from body, my sight bleeding for just a second as I passed effortlessly through an invisible dimensional wall.

I let out a long and labored breath. Astral Projecting always took my breath away. Both literally and metaphorically. It felt different in the Astral Plane than it did in real life. I could still breathe but it did nothing to keep me alive. I knew my heart was still beating but I couldn’t feel it. I had sensations of touch but could never really feel the difference between something soft or something hard. All I knew is that it was there. I was used to it by now but everything about the Mystic Art never ceases to amaze me.  

Tonight seemed like a night to patrol the Sanctum. I didn’t know why I felt like doing it but something told me to. An instinct? Maybe. Or perhaps it was just because I couldn’t just sit idly in my Astral Form and do nothing.

I started with the bottom floor. Everything looked normal, the smell of cooked noodles still lingering softly in the air. All clear. The second floor was good too, Wong was asleep, Samrah was asleep… Wait, no, hold on.  

I backpedaled and paused in front of Samrah doorway. There was light peeking from underneath the door. It fled and departed like cracked milk across the floor. Just as quickly as I had seen it, it was gone. Confused and quite worried, I phased through the door. Passing through solid objects was never a pleasant feeling. Sometimes it felt like my intestines were being pulled out of me and other times it just felt like a feather was tickling me all over. It depended on how dense the object was.

My feet came out of the door last, caressing the floor. I saw the light slip behind Samrah curtains and disappear from view. It was blue and bright. I looked at my body and realized _I_ was blue and bright. The light I saw was the living force of another being Astral Projecting but who else would be in Samrah’s room. Before it completely left my view, I rushed after it.

I used my mental energy to fling me forward and out the Sanctum. I couldn’t feel the air but I could see it was chilly. The people below me walking in the night were wrapped up in warmer jackets and puffs of condensed air came from their nostrils. I looked to my right and saw someone floating in the air far away from me. My breath caught in my throat as I locked my eyes unto them. I couldn’t tell who they were but they were definitely Astral Projecting. They were in Samrah’s room, watching her sleep or doing who knows what to her while she dreamt.

Rage engulfed reason and I plunged after the figure.

 _How dare they even try such a thing! No one gets in the Sanctum without my say so._ _Trespassing is illegal, especially on my grounds._ My thoughts urged me faster, propelling me like a slingshot through the silent night air. If it weren’t for that fact that I had given my position away to the trespasser I probably would have collided head-on into them. My anger was ice cold, piercing its way into my mind. My eyes narrowed as I closed in on the intruder, every fiber of my being telling me to fight and win.

“Catch them…” I muttered quietly so the person I was chasing couldn’t hear me. The Cloak of Levitation, which rested on my shoulders, bristled and leaped off my shoulder. It launched itself, blood red fabric wide and flapping, into the figure. The figure dodged the Cloak and whipped around to face me. I had to stop abruptly as to not pass the figure. They were much closer now, I was able to really get a good look at them. They wore a deep violet hood that covered their face and body. Their arms were covered and three belts wound around their waist beneath the cloak they wore. It wasn’t nearly as elegant as the Cloak of Levitation. It corners and folds were sharp and edged, crudely designed and crudely made. Like the seamstress was in rush to finish it. They grabbed something from underneath their dark garbs and my muscles tensed.

Faster than the eye could see, their wrist flicked. Sharp pain etched into my side and I screamed in agony. I barely saw it. The thin glint of silver and red above my head. My vision blurred as the figure slunk away, crimson dripping from a long sparking blade. I gurgled as the sky and lights spun around me in a haze. I could feel myself falling, the Cloak of Levitation reaching out to grab me. I screamed again, it felt like someone was shaking me. An alarm sounded in my head and I knew that the Sanctum was under attack. I roared in pain as I righted myself.

I could feel the blood dripping down my leg and seeping into my boot. I was still in shock, my left arm reaching out to apply pressure to my wound. You couldn’t be hurt in the Astral Plane. You could repeatedly punch someone and have them register that it should be painful but you could only kill someone through intense magical means. Unconsciousness was possible but a giant blood spilling wound? That wasn’t.

The Cloak of Levitation, now in its normal spot, helped to lift me up and carry me to the Sanctum where my body lie in wait of my return. Another alarm sounded in my head. This one was longer, louder, and actually painful. I grimaced and silently urged the Cloak faster. Buildings towered over me in a blur as I limply hung within the stars. No… I wasn’t in the stars. They were above me. Was I hallucinating? Hallucinations were common in a state of shock and--

My thoughts screamed as another alarm tore through my mind.

_GEEZ. I’M COMING AS FAST AS I CAN!_

I reached the Sanctum and the Cloak through me into my room and I twisted myself and winced as red-hot fire pulsed through my body. My mind collided with my body and my eyes snapped open. I breathed in quickly, coughing and groaning. The scent of sweet smoke hit me first and then the burning sensation in my lungs. My eyes watered and I gasped. I shot up in my bed quickly and growled in anger as pain shot through my ribs. I looked down and my eyes widened in horror.

There it was, wet, red and ugly. The gash was still there, bleeding profusely. I had to tend to it quickly or it might become infect--

“Stephen!”

_What now?!_

* * *

Samrah screamed Stephen’s name as loud as she could. A being made of fire and smoke lurched toward her. The Sanctum shook with each step it took with its large flaming paws. The creature reminded her of a large not so cuddly dog. Its eyes were embers of fire and from its jaws spilled molten hot lava that singed and melted the wood around it. There was already a ring of fire surrounding Samrah, which was one reason why she couldn’t escape it. The fire dog growled and bared its obsidian-black teeth. The lava pooled at its paws and Samrah felt her lungs choke as it howled. The dog produced a breath that was thick black smoke. It stung and strangled Samrah as she covered her eyes. She coughed hoarsely and tried to scream for help again but something yanked her back and out of the fire.

She fell into strong and confident arms. Samrah looked up and saw Stephen. His face was cold and calculating. Blood smeared against his chin and fingers. He looked absolutely terrifying. His eyes were filled with kindled rage but they also held extreme pain. Samrah could feel blood seeping through her sweater. It was sticky and hot and there was plenty of it. Samrah gasped when Stephen flipped her around and ripped the necklace off her neck. He pulled the ring off and grabbed Samrah’s hand, pain etching his face like words on a gravestone.

His eyes, although hard, were glazed with pain and shock. Did he even know he was out here with her? The ring slipped onto her finger and Samrah felt a cold rush crackle through her body. His eyes finally met her’s. Blue and watery, he tried to smile but he winced. He held Samrah’s hand in his and slowly turned the face of the ring down. He blinked once and then turned away, jumping into the fire. Samrah ran after him, not thinking twice.

“What the hellhound?!” An unfamiliar voice cried out.

Samrah stopped before the flames and shielded her eyes. A streak of red and blue caught her attention as something of someone flung themselves against the dog’s back. She could barely see them through the smoke but it looked like they were holding the giant dog’s mouth shut with thin white string. They grunted and pulled, muscles pulsing and expanding as they did so. Stephen formed a whip of magic and held the dog’s legs while the other person threw its head to the ground. They hissed in pain and pulled away, shaking their hand.

“Ouch, ouch! KAREN set a reminder for me to ask Mr. Stark to make my suit fireproof!” The stranger shouted. Wong appeared from behind, grabbing the tail of the huge dog. The dog fell on its face and it was snarling and clawing the floor. Samrah, with a burst of courage, formed her own magical rope and threw it at the beast. It snapped at the sparking orange light but Samrah wrapped the rope around its throat. She pulled hard with all her might, tightening the rope around its throat. It began to wheeze and pant, a whine escaping its jaws.

Samrah pulled harder and her heels were digging into the floor. Finally, the dog let out a last wimpy breath and ceased to move. The stranger whooped in victory and jumped off, doing an excited flip in the process. They ran up to high-five Stephen but Stephen only glared at them. The stranger lowered their hand and cleared their throat.

“What were you doing so close to the Sanctum?” Stephen asked, his voice hard but Samrah could hear the weakness. The wound was killing him slowly. It made bile rise into her throat and guilt gnaw at her insides. Stephen probably wouldn’t be hurt if it weren’t for her or whatever she was doing to attract all these dangerous creatures.

“I was only patrolling when I saw the fire. I figured I’d come over and help.” He said, Samrah finally identified the stranger as male. She narrowed her eyes. He was lying, she could tell through the red mask. The way the eyes squinted and the small extra breath he took showed her that. He wasn’t lying entirely, she could tell that much but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either. It wasn’t any of Samrah’s business but he obviously had another reason to be nearby.

“Thank you for your assistance. We can take it from here.” Stephen replied, his expression unchanging.

The stranger hung his head walked down the stairs. He paused for a moment, searching the area. The weird white eyes on the red mask decorated with what looked like strings of spiderwebs narrowed and widened when his gaze rested on Samrah. He stared at her for a long time before leaving, acting as if he saw nothing.

 _That was odd…_ Samrah thought, turning back to Stephen to wait for him to give her instructions. He didn’t say anything, only stood in silence for a long time. Wong was quiet beside him too, staring at the dead dog or hellhound as the stranger had called it.

“Samrah… I know you’re here but I can’t see you. I need you to do exactly what I tell you.” Stephen called out into the air. He wasn’t looking at her, he was just scanning the room. “The ring on your hand? Turn it right side up.”

Samrah did as she was told and turned the ring over so the rubies glinted like crystal blood in the dying fire. Finally, his blue eyes landed on her and they filled with relief.

“Now, Samrah don’t freak out.” He said, limping to her. “But when you turn this ring upside down, you turn invisible, okay? So don’t accidentally turn it over and disappear.”

Samrah cocked her head and stared at him in confusion. He sighed and shook his head, his face pale and bloody.

“Samrah. That’s your relic. The Ring of Invisibility.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwa ha ha! You THOUGHT Peter saw her, well, I’m so not sorry to break your hopes and dreams. The next chapter should be out soon. As always, thanks for reading, leave a kudos, a comment, whatever! Feedback, comments and kudos keep me motivated! Until next time!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, I don’t see any reason on keeping you here any longer. Mr. Parker? Would you mind coming in?” Mr. Elis said, directing Samrah’s attention to the door which opened.
> 
> A boy stepped in, a boy with combed brown hair and chocolate eyes. He smiled brightly and cocked his head slightly. Samrah’s breath caught in her throat as she studied this boy. Something about his aura felt familiar…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT! I finally got this baby done! I hope it was worth the wait! I was pretty excited when I realized what was happening in the chapter. We're about to jump right into the overall plot of the story. Boring character introductions and simple developments are done with! Get ready to dive into the true arc of this story. I promise it's gonna be good. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this chapter and please leave a comment and kudos. It keeps me motivated to write and I love hearing what you all have to say. Like, I really, really, really do. It makes my heart happy. <3 Without further ado...

Samrah swung her legs to the rhythm of her heart which was beating erratically. She couldn’t help the feeling of dread pooling in her gut but she couldn’t just walk back to the Sanctum. Not after Stephen had told her specifically to go to school. Before he fainted. 

She was worried about him, he looked exhausted and near ready to die. She should be at the Sanctum, helping him heal or something. Samrah felt really bad about it. Especially since she would be going to school for the first time alone… She wished she had friends to go with her. Life would be so much easier if she had friends by her side. She had Ashton but Ashton was homeschooled and two years older than her. Samrah would have to go out in the open and introduce herself to hundreds of kids and hope some of them or  _ any _ of them were compatible. 

Her new backpack thumped against her spine and her zippers jingled. Her hands were covered with mittens because the air had a certain bite to it. A fluffy scarf was wrapped around her neck and covered her mouth. The scarf was damp against her lips from her water vapor-air. She shivered against the cold that drifted in through her sleeves. She’d always hated winter, mostly because of the cold. Samrah and the cold were not the greatest friends. Even when the wintertime bathed the world in a sheet of sparkling snow, she still didn’t like it. Even though she loved the look of snow. The feel of snow? That was a whole different story. 

She mumbled into her scarf and beat her hands against her thighs to get them warm. She wished Stephen hadn’t insisted on her walking. It was completely unnecessary and pretty impractical. Maybe if she told him how cold it was outside, he would reconsider his decision. Or… Maybe not.  Samrah was already almost to the school but the freezing air had already taken its toll on her body. What she wouldn’t give for a heated jacket. Maybe those existed, maybe they didn’t. Either way, she wanted it badly. This jacket wasn’t warm enough on its own. 

When Samrah reached the main entrance of the school she stopped to read the welcome sign. Her eyes widened in terror and shrunk inside of herself. Stephen had sent to a school for smart people?! She’d never even been to school before! Was he that egotistic as to send her to a place that would most likely drown her in academics? She frowned deeply and shoved her assumptions aside. Whatever her guardian was thinking, he obviously had a plan. He wouldn’t send her here if he didn’t have a good reason. 

Samrah took a deep breath and joined the stream of students entering the school building. She hesitated for a single moment before gulping down her fear and pushing the glass doors open.

Samrah sighed as she accepted the warmth that the building brought. It was a very very very big difference from the unforgiving chill of winter. She slipped her mittens off and put them in her pockets along with her hands. She let out a single puff of breath before looking down at the floor and fighting through the crowd. Samrah said a few ‘sorry’ and ‘pardon me’s before she popped out of the sea of teenagers and headed to where the front office was. She was supposed to meet with the principal to get her schedule and to have a tour. Samrah hoped the principal was giving the tour and not a student. She still wasn’t quite ready for social interaction. Even though she had been practicing in the mirror all morning.

Samrah turned the doorknob and shuffled into the front office. There were some students bustling around but none of them noticed her, which was a relief. She sidestepped up to the front desk and waited for the woman to be done talking on the phone. The woman glanced down at Samrah kindly and smiled.  

“You must be Samrah. Principal Elis will see you over there in that room to the left.” She reached down and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “Here is your schedule and he’ll be in there to discuss the majority of how school works. We’re happy to have you. If you ever need anything, just come to the office. I’m always here.” 

Samrah whispered a thank you and the woman nodded sympathetically, bidding her goodbye. Samrah took the schedule and opened it up. Her first hour was Math, not her favorite but it seemed like a good way to start the day. Her second hour was Italian, which was an interesting choice. Out of most of the languages Samrah knew to speak and read, Italian was one she couldn’t get her hands on at the orphanage library. It would be fun to learn. Samrah smiled to herself, Stephen must’ve suggested it. Her third hour was Biology and her fourth was History. Her fifth period surprised her the most and almost made her want to faint. Her fifth hour was a Senior level English class. If this was Stephen’s doing she would make sure he knew exactly how she felt about it. 

An English class two years above her grade level?! What was he thinking? Sure, maybe he’d seen her write every once in a while but he had no idea what her literature level was! Just because she knew four different languages did not mean she was good at the one she had been born into. She’d probably have to ask the principal about it, maybe he’d move her down. 

Samrah was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t see the door. She ran right smack into the wood and she yelped sharply. Some kids laughed behind her and she rubbed her nose, her cheeks turning rosy pink. Samrah heard someone snap at them but she was too busy to thank them for helping her out on the sidelines. She fumbled with the doorknob and pushed the principal’s door open and slammed it shut. She let out a sigh of relief and clutched her schedule to her chest. 

“Oh, dear.” An aged male voice spoke, giggles bubbling in his sentences. “I’m so sorry, forgive me. You must be Samrah, right? Do you—” 

“Um, no,” Samrah said quietly, answering the question he didn’t even finish. “I don’t have a last name.” 

“But you’re staying at Stephen Strange’s residence?” He probed. 

She shuffled uncomfortably. “Y-yeah. It’s… Complicated.”

“It’s fine, I won’t pry. Here, have a seat.” Mr. Elis pulled out a chair beside him and she sat down. He motioned for her schedule and she handed it over to him sheepishly. “You must be pretty alarmed about your English class?” 

Samrah’s head shot up and her eyes widened. How did he know what she was thinking? Was he a sorcerer? An evil demon? Stephen said they could be anywhere… Samrah smacked herself mentally. No, no, she shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. Stephen taught her how to sense magical beings and the principal of this school was definitely not one. 

“Don’t be too worried about it. Mr. Strange insisted on this level of proficiency. If it’s not a good fit then we could always move you down. But I’d like to see how you would do first.” He reassured. “Nothing is set in stone yet.” 

“Thank goodness,” Samrah mumbled to herself and Mr. Elis smiled warmly. 

“You’ve seen all of your other classes?” 

She nodded. 

“Well, I don’t see any reason on keeping you here any longer. Mr. Parker? Would you mind coming in?” Mr. Elis said, directing Samrah’s attention to the door which opened. 

A boy stepped in, a boy with combed brown hair and chocolate eyes. He smiled brightly and cocked his head slightly. Samrah’s breath caught in her throat as she studied this boy. Something about his aura felt familiar… His hands were folded behind his back and he looked almost as nervous as her but she could only observe that because  _ she  _ was observant. He was wearing a white T-shirt with a dark grey hoodie covering his shoulders. The shirt had some science pun on it. It said, “What do you call an acid with a bad attitude? A-mean-oh acid”. She would’ve found it amusing if she weren’t so tense and anxious. 

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker.” He said openly, holding a hand for her to shake. Samrah rose to her feet and grimaced when she knocked down a cup of pens and pencils. She bent down to pick it up, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

“I’m Samrah.” She said softly, so soft even she could barely hear. Somehow, he heard it and shook her hand happily. 

“Nice to meet you, Samrah! I’ll be your guide around the school. Mr. Elis says we have some classes together? English and Italian right? Kind of ironic that they’re both languages, isn’t it?” The boy, Peter said, trying to make small talk. 

“Technically that’s not irony. More of a coincidence.” Samrah said quietly. 

He blinked twice and rubbed the back of his head and laughed. “And see, that’s why you’re in a Senior English class as a Sophomore.” He cleared his throat quickly. “We should get going, yes?” 

Samrah nodded and Mr. Elis handed her the schedule. She thanked him and followed Peter out of the office. 

“You have a good day, Samrah!” 

“Thanks, sir. You as well.” She replied. Samrah nearly danced for joy when she realized all of her mirror practice had paid off. She followed close behind Peter into the hallway. Most of the kids were gone, all rushing to their first hour. Peter was most likely just going to show her the classes she needed to go to and such but he surprised her when he showed her the gymnasium first. 

“This is the gym. Do you have a P.E. class?” He asked, showing her the polished wooden floors and stacks of grey bleachers. 

Samrah checked her schedule and sure enough, seventh hour she had gym. He looked over shoulder and made her heart jump when he donned on a smile. 

“Seems that’s another class we have together. For most of those classes, I could walk with you if you’d like.” Peter took her hand and walked her out of the gym. Samrah couldn’t help the red that donned her cheeks. She knew that people didn’t hold hands often but his hands were soft and warm. A comforting presence that calmed her beating heart. He let go once he entered the halls, his face already apologizing for the sudden intrusion. It was obvious that he wasn’t supposed to hold other people’s hands either. The rules of society were strange to Samrah. It didn’t make any sense to her at all. What was the significance of holding someone's hand? 

“This is the cafeteria.” He said, pointing inside a large room with tables and chairs. A delicious smell wafted in from a line of counters with glass covering them. Ladies and men moved behind the glass with pots and pans and other utensils. They looked really busy but they were probably making something yummy in there. Peter snickered when he saw her hungry look. “Don’t get your hopes up. Sometimes the food tastes good and sometimes it’s terrible.” 

Samrah looked at him with a blank face and he cleared his throat. “Let’s go look at your first class. Math, right?” 

Samrah nodded silently and he reached to take her hand but withdrew it and motioned for her to follow instead. Samrah counted the doors she passed until she reached her Math class.  _ Four doors and then take a right, the second door to the left.  _ She took a mental note of that and he gestured the class, explaining that this would be where she would be doing Math. They moved onto her next class which was two doors back from her Math class. Her Italian class wasn’t in session right now but Peter said that he would meet Samrah outside of her Math class to walk her down. Only if she wanted. She responded quietly that she was okay with it. 

“It’s really an interesting class. Ever since I went to Italy I’ve always wanted to learn more about the language.” Peter looked down at Samrah as they walked to the next class. “Do you know any other languages?” 

Samrah nodded. “I can read and speak Spanish, French, Sanskrit, Portuguese, and German.”

His eyes widened in admiration. “That’s a lot of languages. How’d you learn all of them?” 

“I had a lot of resources and free time,” Samrah responded as he stopped at her third hour. It was her Biology class and there was already another class there. It looked pretty complicated but nothing she couldn’t handle. She knew a lot about Biology and science so she shouldn’t be too far behind in the class. They moved on to her next class which was her History class. The class was not going on but the teacher was in there. Peter made a few introductions but Samrah mostly kept her head down and only answered questions directly pointed to her. 

They went to her fifth hour, the teacher wasn’t there and the door was locked but Peter said there was nothing to be worried about when fifth hour came he would walk with her down a little bit before lunch was over so they could get a better look at the class. Her sixth hour, which she hadn’t had a chance to look at before, was art. Peter said he didn’t have that class this year but stressed his inability to draw. 

Even after only walking with him for ten minutes she already knew a lot about this boy. He had two really good friends, Michelle and Ned. Ned sounded like a buddy he’d had for a very long time and Michelle sounded like she was a new friend and a whole other type of friend. When he spoke about her his eyes sparkled and pink dusted his cheeks. He really liked this girl. Maybe they held hands a lot. He also really like Science. She determined this through the pun on his shirt and the extra stop they made to look at his Chemistry class. He even went in and talked to the teacher, introducing her, which had been a disaster in her opinion. Peter was a talked when he was talking about stuff that he was passionate about, otherwise, he mostly kept his thoughts and opinions to himself. He also smiled a lot. 

_ Does his face hurt from all that smiling? _ Samrah wondered. 

Since they had already looked at her last hour, which was gym class, he sent her back to her Math class which was already halfway over. When Peter waved her goodbye and left her in Math, her heart sunk down to her stomach and she was tempted to race after him. The panic of loneliness and attention washed over her as every head in the class turned around to face her. Samrah covered her face in the scarf she still wore and scurried over to a seat in the back, setting her backpack down and letting out a shaky breath. 

Today was going to be a hard day… 

***

Samrah stopped at the cafeteria door. Multiple people shoved past her took up the last remaining seats. She fidgeted with her lunch bag and blew a stray strand of hair from her face. Samrah looked around, searching for an empty table. To her dismay, there wasn’t an empty table. Not even an empty seat. Well, except for one. But she didn’t want to sit there, not with people she didn’t know… Peter was sitting there with some of his friends but she didn’t want to seem like a bother. Samrah decided that if she wasn’t invited to sit at their table then there was no reason for her to walk over there and act as she had been. 

She took a deep breath and stepped in, finding a wall that seemed isolated from a lot of people. She slid down the wall and sat on her bum and crossed her legs in front of her. Samrah opened her lunch bag and smiled. No matter how much he hated to admit it, Stephen really was the best and nicest person ever. He had packed her favorite, even in his sickly condition…  

Samrah was about to take a bite when she heard footsteps walking toward her. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. Someone was coming and their target was her.

* * *

 

“Hey, isn’t that the girl you showed around today?” Michelle asked tugging at Peter’s sleeve. He glanced over his shoulder and saw… What was her name again? Something weird and unique. Sarah? No… That wasn’t it. It was more like a mix between Sam and Sarah. Samarah? NO! Samrah! Peter nodded and went back to eat his food. He liked Samrah, sure, but he didn’t want to just throw someone else in at the table. Especially another girl. He didn’t think Michelle was the type to get jealous or petty about him to talking to another girl but he still felt bad about it. 

“Why don’t you invite her over?” Ned suggested, watching Samrah sulk over to a wall. Peter watched in his peripheral vision as she slid down and pulled out a tub of pasta. She did look lonely… Especially since she was hiding in the darkest corner of the cafeteria. Was she trying to hide from people? If so, she was actually really good at it. She really did blend in with the business. Even if she was acting abnormally. 

“Are you guys okay with it?” Peter asked, just checking to make sure. 

“Yeah, of course.” They replied in sync. 

Peter gave them a weird face and they gave him one back. 

“What?” They asked in unison again. He chuckled and got up from the table, they did that on purpose this time. Actually, maybe they did it on purpose  _ every _ time just to bug him. 

He walked over to Samrah with a smile on his face. Why, when he looked at her, did he gave her a familiar feeling in his chest? A feeling of mystery and longing. Like he was supposed to know something about this girl but he had forgotten. It was nagging at the back of his mind and it wouldn’t let up. Should he know Samrah? Well, there was only one way to find out. 

He had to ask her.

* * *

 

None other than her tour guide Peter Parker was walking toward her. She was both filled with relief and panic.

Samrah’s panic had accidentally pushed herself into his thoughts. It was quite overwhelming, a lot of things happening all at once. He was listening to the conversation at the table to his right, looking for danger, smelling the mac and cheese to his left, and his muscles were always coiled and tense. Peter seemed like he was on guard. But there was one emotion stronger than all the others. He  _ was  _ coming to see her, and he wanted to be friends. 

_ Friends? Already? I’m not ready! I just got here today! I’m still not ready to start conversations. I barely know how to speak to Stephen and he talks to me all the time! No, no! Please, nice Peter. Go away…  _

“Hey,” He said, snapping Samrah into reality and stopping her heart. At first, she couldn’t breathe. This was way too much for her all at once. He seemed to notice that and give her space to breathe but still close enough to hear her. “I, uh, noticed you were all alone over here…” 

Samrah shook her head sharply. 

“You’re not alone?” Peter asked, checking over her shoulder and smiling. A mischievous glint in his eyes startled her. “I’m pretty sure walls don’t talk.” 

“I-I away heard… No, no! I m-mean, I’m not already pregnant. NO WAIT!” Samrah’s face burned a hot red and she buried herself in her arms. Why couldn’t she speak? Why did words suddenly fail her? Talking to people always made her nervous. 

“Um, okay?” He said, chuckling. “I’m glad you’re not already pregnant.” He cocked his head and the corners of his smile disappeared a little bit. “I do feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before… Before today because--” 

“R-really? I sure don’t remember seeing you!” Samrah said quickly and his frown deepened. He looked… Sad? OH NO! She wasn’t supposed to say that! “I, er, I mean…” Samrah sighed. “I am so, so, so, so, so, sorry… I’m not very good at making friends. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 

His smile returned and his face lit up again. “Oh no! You’re fine! I kind of noticed since, well, you’re kind of over here all alone in the darkest, most hidden part of the cafeteria.” 

_ Ha! So I did pick a good spot! Then how could he have possibly noticed me if even he says it’s the best place to hide? There’s something off about him, something different that I just can’t quite place. The feel of his aura is… Strange.  _ Samrah mentally smacked herself.  _ Good thing you didn’t say that around Stephen or he would’ve smacked you for yourself. Still… This boy. Now that he mentions it, there is something familiar about his voice.  _ Samrah realized she had been staring too much at him and he started to look uncomfortable.  _ Oops! Stop trying to categorize people from the outside! Find who they are from asking and becoming their friend! TAKE STEPHEN’S ADVICE!!  _

“Do you wanna come sit with me?” He asked, opening his shoulder to show the table where his friends were at. They waved. 

“Um, sure…” Samrah answered. He smiled warmly and held out his hand for her to take. The moment their fingers touched Samrah was overwhelmed by heartbreaking emotion. Suddenly, she wasn’t in the cafeteria anymore, she was on a battlefield. Bodies lay littered on the ground and the smell of burning flesh was almost too much to bear. Then she saw the boy, Peter. He was in an odd red and blue suit with golden lining. He was clinging to a man who looked just as beaten up as the battlefield. She knew the man, he was Tony Stark. Iron Man. But why was…? Then it all happened so fast, Peter started to disappear. He began to dematerialize, his body breaking up into tiny pieces and floating off into nothing. No, she wasn’t supposed to see this. She wasn’t supposed to know. Samrah gasped and tugged her hand back and the vision faded. And so did the nagging pain that came in the wake of remembering the Dusting… 

Peter looked at her concerned, it was obvious that he had been shaking her. Samrah really hated it when she got random visions… It hadn’t happened lately so it had totally taken her off guard. She felt horrible for seeing something so vulnerable and personal about him. They had only just met and she didn’t want to ruin what relationship she had with him by unintentionally seeing his personal suffering… Already she was beginning to grow on Peter. The boy who knew too much and saw too much. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, checking her body. “I just got a weird feeling and then you were staring off at nothing. You looked scared.”

“I’m fine,” Samrah said, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. “Just got startled.”  _ That’s an understatement.  _

“Are you sure? You looked really overwhelmed.” He held out his hand again for her to take and to help her stand. Samrah reached to take it but hesitated. She was afraid to touch him again, lest she see something she wasn’t supposed to again. Instead and grabbed her things and got up on her own. The gesture looked like it kind of hurt his feelings but it wasn’t anything personal! She just didn’t want to touch his hand again. Even if it was as soft as silk and as warm as a blanket… Samrah nearly blushed when she began to think about holding his hand like they had in the gym. 

NOPE! NOPE! He had a better relationship with the girl Michelle over there at the table with his other friend Ned. She shouldn’t be thinking about holding his hand, especially after just meeting him. His brown eyes, as deep as mud, took her in for a second. They sparked for a second and Samrah held her breath. There was no way she’d seen that emotion from the depths of his soul. Did he really feel the same way she did? Because that’s the message she got from that look. 

* * *

 

“You think Samrah’s doing okay?” I asked, trying to sit up but wincing at the pain that shot through my ribs. Wong snorted in annoyance. I knew I asked this question way too much. I just couldn’t get the thought of bullies out of my head. She was an extremely easy target for bullies and really easy to take advantage of. What if someone was mean to her? What if she got lost or something? 

“I’m sure she’s doing fine, Stephen. If anything, I think she’s more worried about you than herself.” Wong replied, bringing a cup of tea to place beside my bed. “Besides, she’s mostly been on her own for her entire life. She can take care of herself.” 

“I hope some boy hasn’t touched her…” I muttered, taking the cup and lifting it to my lips. 

Wong chuckled, sipping some of his own tea. “Possessive much?” 

I sank into my bed and drank my tea in my own silence. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samrah rubbed her face and stood up. She couldn’t worry about that now, she needed to get ready for her night with Peter. What did one bring to a friend hangout anyway? The only friend she had before this was Ashton but she and Ashton never had chances to hangout. They were too busy trying to survive and weren’t worried about watching movies or doing whatever friends do in their free time. Was this a formal thing? Did she have to wear nice clothes? No… Those were for dates and Samrah was sure this wasn’t a date. OH NO. WAS IT A DATE? NO NO. Of course not! 
> 
> But...WHAT IF PETER ACCIDENTALLY THOUGHT IT WAS A DATE?!
> 
> Samrah face planted into her bed and groaned. No, no, no, no! Peter had a girlfriend! What if it caused a whole rift in their relationship? WHAT IF MICHELLE TOTALLY NEGLECTED PETER?! AND IT WAS ALL. SAMRAH’S. FAULT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Time to get this party started! Some Samrah and Peter in here. Pre-warning, there are mentions, only MENTIONS, of SLIGHTLY, no, BARELY adultish content. And just for all those ever wondering, I don’t write smut. And I will never write anything that will make anyone uncomfortable. 
> 
> Now that that’s out of the way, I take screenshots of any comments posted on an update so I don’t forget them because I love them! I really really do! It always gets me so excited! I will reply to every single one. 
> 
> Have fun with this little chapter, my beloved readers!

Samrah found her food very interesting.

Not in the way that you would think, she didn’t find the taste of her food or even the look of it was interesting. More like staring at the food was just an excuse to not make eye contact or talk with the people around her. It wasn’t easy to shut out or ignore the voices of the lively school cafeteria buzzing with people and conversations. Her table was unusually loud today, actually, perhaps she couldn’t even call it _her_ table. It was more of _their_ table than her table. Michelle, Peter, and Ned practically owned the table. No one else sat with them except for Samrah but Samrah was just a lucky inconvenience. She had had a feeling they would grow tired of her soon and start to forget about her. Which was fine by her. Not that she didn’t want friends! Samrah actually really did want friends, she had been lonely all her life. Friendship was just a new and terrifying thing for her. Being alone was so much easier…

“Yo, Samrah.”

Samrah’s attention was drawn from her staring contest with macaroni and cheese. It was Michelle who had spoken. The tall girl with beautiful eyes and curly hair. Michelle had an eyebrow cocked and her fork was hanging just below her chin. She looked rather amused with a small smirk on her face.

“You okay there? Spacing out on us, huh?” Michelle commented, taking a bite of her lunch.

Samrah blushed bright red and let her hair fall in front of her face. “Y-yeah, sorry.”

Michelle laughed. “No need to apologize, I do it sometimes too. What were you thinking about?”

Samrah only blushed more and began to relentlessly stab her mac and cheese. It wasn’t that she was particularly embarrassed about the train of thought she had been on, it was just that she still wasn’t used to people actually wanting to know what she was thinking or her opinions.

“I was, um, thinking about the difference between vision and reality.” She said quietly.

Peter choked in front of her and Ned just stopped eating or breathing all together. Samrah didn’t like the way they were staring at her. Was it shock? Disbelief? Or maybe they didn’t like people who thought about that kind of stuff. Oh no, what if she had offended them somehow? What if they were angry at her for sharing what she was thinking? Do normal people not think about the things she thought of?

“What about it?” Peter asked, the surprise peeling off of his face and leaving interest instead.

“Um, well, like how sometimes what we see isn’t reality.” Samrah tried explaining. “It’s… Almost like what we see is our own reality depending on how we envision it. For example, you could look at this fork,” Samrah held up her fork. “And see a fork. I could see a trident or something or perhaps Ned could see a puppy. This is all because that’s how we were taught to see. We all see differently so how can we truly define reality? If our vision is limited to what we were taught and how we interpret things, is anything around us actually true?”

Now there was surprise again. Pure, dumbfounded surprise.

Samrah shrank inside of herself and scrunched her shoulders.

“I’ve never thought of it that way…” Peter breathed out, his eyes shining with wonder. “What in the world made you think that?”

“I don’t know…” Samrah confessed. “Sometimes thoughts just pop in my mind. There’s not really a rhyme or reason to them.”

Samrah blushed again, she didn’t really feel comfortable with Peter staring at her like that. Even though she had been spending weeks at a time with these people she still wasn’t used to attention. Not to mention she was doing really well in her English class and pretty much all of her classes. Samrah thought that everything would be really hard but things were running smoothly. Her grades were above average, Stephen was healing well from his little fight with the mystery lady, and she had friends. All of which were surprising and amazing. She never imagined she would get this far in life. She honestly thought she would live and die in that orphanage, killing herself before she could ever experience the outside.

Yet, here she was, laughing with actual living human beings at a lunch table, complex people who had hearts and minds and could really see her. Not the fictional characters in the books she read, the only friends she had in the orphanage. Words and pictures on pages created by ink and imagination. No, these were _real_ people and it was terrifying and magnificent at the same time. Samrah didn’t know how to tread her way through people, she couldn’t read them like a book. So instead of trying to pry all their secrets she just observed them. They were her friends, not her lab rats, but it was still nice to watch them and learn from them. She learned a lot more from her friends than she did from school. She learned how people worked and it really helped her out.

“There you go, spacing out again.” Michelle interrupted Samrah’s thoughts and made her jump a little. Michelle laughed, “What were you thinking about this time philosopher?”

“About you guys.” Samrah didn’t lie. “About how grateful I am to have friends.”

“Aww…” Ned cooed. “That’s so sweet Samrah.”

She blushed harder and tried to hide in her sweater.

“Hey, stop embarrassing her, Ned!” Peter teased, nudging Ned with his elbow. “Can’t you see the poor girl is trying to eat?”

“Yeah, leave her alone guys.” Michelle wrapped an arm around Samrah and she tensed for a moment. “We girls gotta stick together, right, Sam?”

“Sam?” Samrah asked quietly.

“Yeah, it’s a nickname. You don’t mind do you?” Michelle smiled at her kindly. “We can make it even, I’ll let you call me MJ. IT’s pretty much what everyone calls me except you.”

“It’s fine, you can call me whatever you want,” Samrah said. “But MJ sounds nice.”

“Hey, babe,” Peter said, reaching over to hug Michelle. “Wanna come over and hang out at my house tonight? Movies and stuff?”

Michelle sighed and hugged back. “I wish I could but I’ve got a busy night at work. They doubled my shift at the Coffee Shack today. Leah’s out sick with the flu. Nasty.”

Peter deflated and Samrah felt really bad. Samrah knew that Ned was busy tonight too. He had to stay behind and do a Study Hall after school for Math. He had been struggling in that class lately and he was meeting with a tutor. Peter normally had at least someone over at his house every night. Whether it was MJ or Ned. Tonight he would be alone and it seemed he didn’t quite like that idea.

“I can come over,” Samrah said quickly before she even knew she spoke up. She immediately regretted it when all of her new friends looked around to stare at her, _again._ The third time in under ten minutes. Shivers ran down her spine and she was tempted to hide under the table. Samrah gulped and stiffened her spine, she had to stay strong through this. She couldn’t keep avoiding her friends afterschool forever. “I’m not doing anything tonight and I get all my homework done in class. I-If that’s okay with you, Peter…”

Peter seemed to think about it for a moment and looked at Michelle for approval. Michelle responded with a roll of her eyes.

“Parker, I’m not some petty attached girlfriend. You can hang around other girls. Jeez.” She playfully pushed Peter away and this time Peter was the one to be embarrassed.

“Yes.” He coughed slightly. “Well, as long as it’s okay with your parents, Samrah.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.” Samrah said, continuing the eat her lunch a lot more excited than she had been before. Finally, she would actually get to hang out alone with a real friend without death at her doorstep. Maybe today was her day to be normal. All she had to do was convince Stephen to let her go…

***

“No, absolutely not.” Stephen crossed his arms over his chest and frowned deeply.

“Pleeeeaaaasee?” Samrah pleaded, following Stephen when he turned around to walk up the stairs. “Peter is a really nice boy and he’ll be all alone tonight. Besides, it’ll only be for about two hours.”

Stephen sighed and turned around to Samrah with conflict in his eyes. He looked like he really wanted to let Samrah go but he also looked worried. Samrah didn’t blame him. After all of the attacks of monsters and demons he’s been questioning even letting her outside the Sanctum. She understood, she really did, but ever since she finally learned how to use the sling ring she could run away faster. If worse came to worse, Samrah would take Peter and hightail it. Stephen knew this. So maybe…

“Fine, you can go.” He grumbled. “ _Only_ for two hours. I expect you home by six, okay?”

Samrah beamed and hugged Stephen. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Dad!”

Stephen tensed underneath her and Samrah realized what she’d said. She pulled away and hid her face from him, ashamed. “I-I’m sorry, Stephen. I shouldn’t have--”

“No, it’s fine.” He said, looking at her with a forced smile. Samrah was very very very ashamed. Very ashamed. Oh gods, why had she said that? She knew Stephen was touchy about the parents stuff and she had gone and flat out called him ‘dad’. Maybe he wouldn’t let her go anymore, was he mad at her? Samrah tilted her head up. She couldn’t tell, it was scary. His face virtually unreadable.

He took in a shaky breath. “You better go get ready or something… Double check to make sure you have all your homework done. Okay?”

“Okay.” Samrah mumbled as Stephen turned and quickly walked up the stairs to his room. She watched him with regret in her eyes but walked up the stairs to her room. Once she shut the door she buried her face in her hands.

Why? Why couldn’t she not screw up for about five seconds? Everything she did, everything she thought, was like walking on very thin ice. Her whole life had been like that. Keep your head low, don’t let anyone notice you, don’t speak and you won’t offend anyone. She should’ve known that once she left the orphanage nothing would change.

Samrah rubbed her face and stood up. She couldn’t worry about that now, she needed to get ready for her night with Peter. What did one bring to a friend hangout anyway? The only friend she had before this was Ashton but she and Ashton never had chances to hangout. They were too busy trying to survive and weren’t worried about watching movies or doing whatever friends do in their free time. Was this a formal thing? Did she have to wear nice clothes? No… Those were for dates and Samrah was sure this wasn’t a date. OH NO. WAS IT A DATE? NO NO. Of course not!

But...WHAT IF PETER ACCIDENTALLY THOUGHT IT WAS A DATE?!

Samrah face planted into her bed and groaned. No, no, no, no! Peter had a girlfriend! What if it caused a whole rift in their relationship? WHAT IF MICHELLE TOTALLY NEGLECTED PETER?! AND IT WAS ALL. SAMRAH’S. FAULT.

Samrah whipped out her phone and called Ashton. She began to pace around her room until Ashton answered the phone.

“Hello--?”

“ASHTON! THANK GOD! HOW DO YOU TELL A GUY THAT YOU ACCIDENTALLY ASKED HIM ON A DATE BUT DIDN'T MEAN TO?!” Samrah screamed into the phone.

She heard Ashton hiss painfully from the other line. “Jeez, can you get any louder? First of all, _what_? You asked someone on a date?”

“YES!” Samrah paused. “Wel… no? MAYBE? I DUNNO!”

“Okay, okay, calm down. What exactly did you do?”

“Well, my new friend Peter was going to be lonely tonight because all of his friends were busy because of work and school and stuff and I didn’t want to leave him all alone so I kinda sorta just invited myself over and he said it was cool but I don’t know!” Samrah took a deep breath.

“Oh my gosh, Samrah. BREATHE. You took like zero breaths in that entire sentence. You really need to chill out. No, you silly girl, you didn’t ask him out on a date. Sheesh. You just wanted to make sure he wasn’t lonely. A date is _way_ different. At least from what I’ve seen on movies. You’re good. Have you really never been to another friend’s house?” Ashton said.

“No.” Samrah sighed. “I wasn’t allowed to leave the orphanage, remember?”

“Right, because of crazy-old lady-Wathson.” She went silent for a moment. “Is that all you need cause I kinda have to do chores…”

“Oh, yes! Sorry.” Samrah apologized. “What do you wear to friend...hangouts?”

Ashton laughed hysterically. “You just wear what you’re wearing! It’s not a formal thing and it’s definitely _not_ a date. Just be yourself.”

“Okay, thanks, Ashton. You really are a true friend.” Samrah’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“Yeah, don’t you forget it.” Her voice died away and Samrah could hear someone calling Ashtron’s name. “Sorry, got to go. Have fun at Paul’s place!”

“It’s Peter!” Samrah laughed.

“Peter, Paul, same thing. Bye!”

Ashton hung up on the phone and Samrah pulled up Peter’s address on her phone. It was a little ways from where she was. His home was in Queens and just a tad closer than the school. She should walk but a sling ring would be much faster, although, she might get noticed easily and then she would have a big problem on her hands.

Samrah nervously fingered her ring, which was now on her finger. Ever since she learned that it was her relic and her finger size, she was wearing it on her hand now. It felt much better on her finger, like it was supposed to be there. What had Stephen called it? The Ring of Invisibility? Did that mean she could turn invisible?

She smacked herself on the forehead.

 _Of course you can! Remember the hellhound incident? It didn’t see you because Stephen did...He did something. Did he turn the ring over?_ Samrah looked at the ring and flipped the jewels to the palm of her hand. She walked into her bathroom and gasped with delight when didn’t see herself!

 _Yes! One point for Samrah! Even if someone sees the sparkling-magical-circle-thing, they won’t see me!_ She thought with triumph. Sarmah fumbled with her pockets and pulled out her sling ring. She placed it on her fingers and pictured Peter. His face was clear in her mind. His brown hair, his bright smile, his chocolate eyes that sent her mind into a frenzy… Every detail of Peter was in her mind, no doubt about it. Samrah stepped through the portal and came face to face with Peter.

She yelped and stepped back but lost her balance. Samrah bit back a scream when she realized Peter wasn’t inside… He was on top of a roof!

Samrah caught herself on the edge and dodged Peter’s body which was now standing and searching around. Once Sarmah got her balance she turned back to him, wondering what he was looking for. When he turned around Samrah remembered to close the sling ring circle.

“Who’s there?” He asked.

Samrah panicked, he couldn’t see her! She had to be sneaky about this, she had to be smart. She dashed over to the stairs leading to the roof. She hid beneath the stairs and turned the ring back over. Samrah stilled her beating heart and made sure she wasn’t panting. She had to act like she had been walking up the stairs… so maybe a little out of breath. Samrah turned the ring over and walked up the stairs.

“Oh…” Peter’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s just you, Samrah. How did you know I was up here?”

Samrah fumbled for an answer. “I-I didn’t. I just like the roof. At the Sanc-- My house, I like to sit on top of the roof and watch the city. It’s really pretty at night.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, approaching Samrah. “I know what you mean.”

He was standing inches from her face and she took in his eyes fully. Her breath caught in her chest and she was paralyzed, just staring up into his face. She was the first to look away and clear her throat. She adjusted her glasses, making sure they were still hiding her eyes. She watched Peter walk back up to the edge, gazing off into the distance. Samrah only stood there silently looking after Peter. She wondered how he would feel if she showed him her eyes and the things she hid from him. Would he still want to be her friend? Would he still look at her the same after she told him she couldn’t trust him with those things?

“Hey, Samrah.” Peter turned around, a small smile spread across his face. “Do you wanna come sit next to me and watch the sunset?”

“Um,” Samrah shuffled her feet for a moment. “Sure…”

She sat beside him and stared off into the city lights. As the sun disappeared behind building tops the city came alive. Light sparkled to life and the streets became clamoured with honking cars and chattering people. Samrah loved the city, she loved the noises and the smells but she also loved the peace of nature and the consistency it gave. Samrah yawned as the colors and blinking lights of the city drew her to sleep. She knew she shouldn’t sleep now but she’d had a long day and felt like she needed it.

Samrah rested her head on Peter’s shoulder and closed her eyes, falling into a deep and relaxing slumber. Perhaps the most peaceful sleep she’s ever had.

* * *

 

“Where is she?” I roared into the Sanctum, my enraged cry bouncing back to my ears and confirming Samrah’s absence. “It’s been over an hour since she was supposed to be here!”

Wong watched in silence as I marched and paced near the door. The sun had set and darkness had fallen like a blanket over New York City. All was calm outside except for the raging worry in my chest. Where was Samrah? She was _never_ late to anything! When she said she would be back by a certain time, she was always back by a certain time! On the nose, not a minute or second late. Samrah was punctual and kept her promises. Which was what had me so terribly worried.

“I’m going out to look for her.” I said, grabbing a coat and gloves from the coat stand to the right of me. “I can’t wait here any longer for her, she might be in danger.”

“The I will come and assist you in your search.” Wong said, walking up beside me as I flung the door open. I stopped in surprise when icy cold air slammed into my face but that wasn’t the only reason I was surprised. Samrah was standing there, yawning and looking like she had just woken up. Her eyes were tired and her black hair was tousled and lying free, not in its usual side-ponytail. Samrah’s face was pink from the cold and she was shivering.

Anger boiled in my gut. Where had she been? And why did she look so bedraggled?!

Samrah saw the angered glint in my eye and shrunk away, shamefully moving her fiery eyes to the ground. Wong took her gently by the hand and helped her inside, offering her his coat and a seat by the kitchen. I crossed my arms as the door shut closed.

“Where have you been? You were supposed here an hour ago.” I scolded sternly.

Samrah sniffled a little bit and snuggled into the jacket. “I’m sorry, Stephen. Peter and I… We just—“

I cursed loudly and cupped my cheeks. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go alone and unsupervised to a male’s house! Teenage boys are always so sneaky and perverted—“

“It wasn’t like that Stephen!” Samrah exclaimed in horror, standing up. “We were watching the sunset and I was tired! I fell asleep and he was nice enough to not wake me up! He has a _girlfriend_ who he _loves._ I can’t believe you automatically assumed that we did—Did _that_!”

“What else was I supposed to think when you walked through the door looking like you’d just had an affair?” I hissed through clenched teeth.

“I’m fifteen and I know the dangers of the world!” Samrah shouted, her voice rising to a volume I had never heard her use. “And Peter’s not like that and I’m not like that! I’ve lived here for almost two months and you still don’t trust me?! You _still_ don’t understand what kind of person I am?! I had a good explanation as to why I was late and if you had a phone, I would have texted or called you but ‘graciously’ decline any ‘charity’ from Tony Stark because your darn ego always gets in the WAY!”

I took a step back, feeling attacked and ashamed. I should have known, I know Samrah. At least…I think I do. I’ve never seen her angry and honestly, it was terrifying.

“I certainly know what kind of person _you_ are.” Samrah accused, handing Wong her jacket and running up the stairs with tears streaming down her face.

I was left in silence, suffocating silence. I felt like the Sanctum was judging me, like Wong was judging me, like the whole _universe_ was judging me. My eyes stared sadly at where I had seen Samrah disappear, her voice still ringing in my mind. Wong shook his head and step around me to walk up the stairs too.

I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want to breathe. In fact, the only thing I could do was feel regret and think, _what have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, leave a comment, I love those. ❤️ It can be literally anything, something random, something about the story, thouhts, criticism, emojis, ANYTHING. I just like to know if people are still reading and also I value all my readers and what they have to say! 
> 
> Also, leave a kudos and share this story with people you know! The more the merrier!
> 
> Keep it crispy! 
> 
> ~ MoonDash21


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, Samrah with no last name.” A man chuckled from below. “Let’s see what you got.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! This came out much faster than I expected! Whoo hoo! 
> 
> Enjoy Chapter Ten! Chapter Eleven is on it’s way.

I felt awful the next morning. 

My head was aching and I felt like a dreadful person, hiding in my bedroom with the curtains covering the sunlight. 

Wong didn’t come to wake me up, he was probably mad at me too. Samrah wasn’t talking to me. She didn’t say a word to me when she walked out and left for school. She probably wasn’t angry with me, she most likely thought I was the one angry with her and she was avoiding me just like I was avoiding her. I’m not mad at her, I’m mad at myself. 

Wong came to sit beside me on my bed. He looked concerned but didn’t say a word. He knew I was thinking and when I was thinking it was best to just let me think for a moment. 

What kind of idiot am I? 

Getting uncomfortable when Samrah calls me ‘dad’ but then I go and act like a dad. Sure, I was worried about her. Maybe a little too much. Who knew what might attack her next and I know Peter is a good boy, an exceptional boy. Stark wouldn’t  _ stop  _ bragging about the teenager and I was actually hoping the two would become good friends. Peter was friendly and Samrah needed a good friend. 

I was just confused last night and worried. Of course, those emotions channeled into anger and accusations which didn’t help at all. The first thing my panicked mind could think of was the worst possible scenario other than Samrah being dead, which was not the case when she walked through the door. 

I covered my face with my shaking hands and sighed into them. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“You said it,” Wong replied, “Not me.” 

I huffed and pulled my hands over my face before cupping them under my chin. “I don’t understand why I can’t do this right. No matter what I say around her, something goes wrong. I’m not her dad but at the same time I am.” I shivered and glanced at Wong. “I’m not a father, I can’t be. I’ll never be one.” 

Wong merely patted my shoulder firmly and said his few choice of words. “You’re right.” 

I frowned. “Excuse me?” 

Was he trying to make me feel better? Because it wasn’t working. 

“You’ll never be her father. Whoever it was, they don’t deserve her because they left her in a forest as an infant.”

“So… You’re saying I’ve got to be a mother? Seriously, Wong. That’s a little redundant, even for you.” I mocked with frustration. 

“Strange, you’re not understanding what I’m trying to say. That  _ was _ a pretty ‘redundant’ thought but it didn’t come from me.” He said sternly. “What I’m trying to tell you is that you don’t have to be a dad to be her parent.”

“I wouldn’t even consider myself close to a parent…” I muttered. 

“ _ Listen _ .” He pressed. “You’re her protector, her guardian, Stephen. You may not notice this but you gave this girl a home. An actual home with people who care about her. You gave Samrah a chance to go to school and make real friends, you gave her a chance to have a life with a future and a hope. How can you not realize? She loves you, Stephen. But love can’t go one way, she can’t give you everything she has when you withdraw your chance to love her. It’s like a one-sided conversation. Love, in its many forms, may not be your expertise. Whatever you had with Christine certainly didn’t work out right.” 

“Hey…” I interrupted. 

“Quiet, please.” He said firmly. “I know you care about Samrah and she cares a lot about you. We talked about it last night and she feels like she’s not living up to your expectations.” 

“What?” I asked, bewildered. “What expectations? I haven’t set any for her.” 

Wong shook his head. “You didn’t have to. She sees your success and your power as something she  _ has  _ to have or something she should be. She wants to be like you, she thinks you’re so brave and kind. Samrah thinks she’s messing everything up with you. She doesn’t want to make you upset but she feels like she’s walking on thin ice. Every time she tries to show that she’s grateful, you blow her off and get uncomfortable around her.” 

“I…” I was at a loss for words, I had no idea to say. I didn’t know that’s how Samrah felt. I knew she was a nice girl and she worked really hard but I didn’t think it was because of me. It all made sense now. Everything was so obvious and right under my nose the entire time and I never noticed. How could I have not noticed? Even Wong noticed and I am normally very perceptive. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“Maybe you should talk to her when she gets back after auditions.” Wong commented. 

“Auditions?” I asked, leaning forward.

> * * *
> 
>  

_ Deep breaths, Samrah. DEEP. Breaths. You’ll be fine, you’ll do great. Even though you only memorized the monologue this morning, you  _ know  _ it. Peter said it was really good and Peter is smart. Although, he isn’t really an expert in theatre…  _

Samrah was jumped out of her thoughts when someone asked for the girl in line in front of Samrah. Samrah was next after this girl and her heart just would not stop pounding. She didn’t know why she was doing this. She didn’t like talking, especially in front of people,  _ especially  _ in front of a crowd. What was she thinking? THEATRE WASN’T FOR HER! 

Two minutes later and the girl came out with tears running down her face and her mascara smeared on her cheeks. Samrah’s heart pounded in her ears as she watched the girl get comforted by her friends. Samrah didn’t hear the boy in front of her say her name, she was too busy staring in shock and fear. Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she was snapped out of her terror stricken trance. 

“Samrah?” 

Samrah straightened up. “Yes, yes, that’s me. I’m Samrah.” 

The boy smiled sweetly. “I know, come on. It’s your turn.”

Samrah’s face drained of all color and she felt like she might faint. The boy noticed and attempted to calm her down. 

“Hey, you’re gonna do great. It’s not that big of a deal, it’s just auditions.” 

“I have stage fright…” Samrah squeaked out. 

The boy grimaced. “You can always  _ not  _ go. I can tell them you backed out, there’s no shame in it.” 

Samrah took a deep breath and shook her head. “N-no. I can do it.” 

He smiled sweetly and showed her in to the stage. It was a huge stage, extravagant with long black curtains lacey each side, middle, and back. There were huge, hot lights beaming down into her eyes. For a moment, she feared they might see through her enchanted glasses but Stephen assured her that nothing would get through the enchantment. 

There was a long table beneath the stage, five people sat in chairs, all with smiling faces. Or at least from what she could see. The spotlights made it hard to see them, the auditioners. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She would soon find out, though. 

“Hello, what is your name, what monologue and song are you performing and what role are you trying out for?” A young woman asked from the long table. 

Samrah’s breath caught in her throat for a moment but she reeled in her fear and stood straight. “My name is Samrah and I have no last name, I will be performing the monologue  _ And Turning, Stay _ , singing  _ Castle on a Cloud  _ from  _ Les Miserables,  _ and I am trying out for Sandy in the musical  _ Grease _ .” 

“Alright, Samrah with no last name.” A man chuckled from below. “Let’s see what you got.” 

***

Samrah slipped in through the Sanctum’s doors and sut them silently. She took off her backpack and hung it on the coat rack along with her scarf and jacket. She rubbed her cold fingers together and attempted to sneak up to her room. She didn’t want Stephen to know she was here. 

Samrah made her way up the stairs, crouching and touching lightly on the balls of her feet. The stairs made sound underneath her tender touches. She was to her room in seconds, successfully avoiding Stephen. Samrah commended herself on being so stealthy. She should be like a ninja or something. 

She turned and shut her bedroom door, breathing out softly and walking over to her bed. 

“Samrah.” 

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Stephen sitting crosslegged on her bed. Samrah let out a surprised shriek and he winced slightly. She clutched her chest as she felt the terror wiggling it’s ways into her lungs. 

“God, Stephen! You scared me!” Samrah gasped out. 

“Sorry,” He said simply, shifting his weight. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.” 

“It’s...fine.” 

They stared at each other for a while. Stephen looked about as uncomfortable as her. She trailed her eyes to the floor, rubbing her flats on the wood. An awkward silence ensued but he broke it when he cleared his throat loudly.

“I’m sorry,” He said, barely a whisper. 

Samrah sighed. “It’s okay you just startled me—“ 

“No, not about that.” He said, patting a seat beside him on her bed. She sat next to him and she curled her legs in. 

Stephen bit his lip for a while. 

Samrah, realizing with dread, discovered the source of his uncomfortableness. He was thinking about last night. He was going to say something about  _ last night.  _ Was he going to scold her more? Shove down his mistakes by pointing out hers? Was he going to reprimand her for exploding on him? She gulped and waited him to continue. 

“I’m sorry I doubted you last night. You’re right…” He seemed to be fighting the words coming out of him, like it was painful. “I  _ do  _ know what kind of person you are. You’re smart, kind, quiet, but strong. You keep your word and do your best to hold true to it. Last night…” Stephen shook his head. “No, there is no excuse for what I did last night. I was scared and I channeled it into anger, it was  _ wrong  _ of me. You are such an  _ amazing  _ person and I’m glad I chose you out of all those other kids at the orphanage. I just want you to know that I’m proud of you and couldn’t be more lucky to have you in my life. You don’t have to be like me. Be like Samrah.” 

Samrah was crying now, she knew what I meant to be hearing something like this from Stephen Strange. The man who saved countless lives and protected the threads of their reality. He was so awesome and he knew it. Thats what made it so hard for him to say stuff like this. He had an ego, a big one. The fact that he was shoving this aside for her...it broke her heart. In a good way. 

She hugged him and squeezed hard, her tears streaming down her face and her sobs increasing. At first he only tensed but then, he relaxed, settling into her embrace. She felt something wet slide down her neck and shivered, hugging tighter. He was crying to, Samrah could feel his breath catching and letting go. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you!” Samrah cried out, gripping his shirt and sobbing into his chest, happy tears. 

“I…” He paused. “L-love you too, Samrah. Okay? I want you to know that.” 

She laid there a while, her crying ebbing away and exhaustion replacing her saddness and happines. 

“Okay…” She sighed, letting go and pulling away.

Stephen laughed and wiped the tears from his bright blue eyes. “Um, how did your auditions go?” 

Samrah’s eyes widened from behind her glasses. How did he know about the auditions? It was a last minute decision last night. Peter had convinced her to do it because he was doing it for the first time ever. He said Michelle was “Good, I think. Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous. I remembered my monologue and I think I did good on my song. We’ll see what part I get tomorrow.” 

Stephen nodded slowly. “What musical?”

“ _ Grease _ .” 

He thought for a moment. “The weird one about cars and high school?” 

“Yep.” 

“Oh,” Stephen paused, most likey rummaging through the cast in his head. “Who did you tryout for?”

“Sandy.” 

A smile broadened his face. “The lead girl?” 

She blushed. “Yeah, that’s who Peter suggested.”

“Well, he’s smart. I think you would fit that role really well.” He thought for a second. “Will you text me when you find out?” 

“Yes,” She said. 

He got up from the bed, patting Samrah on the back. “Even if you don’t get her, I’m proud of you. I didn’t take you for a performing arts person.” 

Samrah shrank and shrugged her shoulders. “Me neither. I guess I’m just full of surprises.” 

Stephen smiled lightly. “Yes, you are.”

* * *

 

Peter traced his finger down the paper posted on the front glass doors of the school. He was searching for Michelle’s name on the casting list. He didn’t want to look for his yet. Peter wanted to see what his friends got before him. He found Ned’s name, aaaallll the way at the bottom, like Ned thought he would be. Peter chuckled to himself, Ned was ‘Random Boy 7’. He smiled when he saw Michelle’s name. She got Rizzo, the spunky one. She would be good for that, even if she did want Sandy. They were both going to try out for the people who were couples. They both decided on Danny and Sandy. Looks like that wasn’t happening. 

Peter looked up and was surprised to see his name listed under Danny’s. The guy who sang and danced a lot. Both of which Peter was horrible at. Curious, he looked below to see who got Sandy. Before he could get a good look, he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

Peter turned around smiled when he saw Michelle.

“Hey, babe.” He said, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her soft and curly hair. “Wanna see who you got?” 

She nodded and leaned over his shoulder to take a peek. Her face deflated when she saw they wouldn’t have as many scenes together but then a smile slowly crept onto her face. 

“Well, look at who got Sandy.” She pulled her arms around his neck and laced her fingers in his hair. He hummed softly, enjoying the feeling of her against him. Peter turned to look but Ned burst through the doors and bumped Peter aside shouting, “I wanna see, I wanna see, I wanna see!”. 

Ned groaned in disappointment when he saw what he got. 

“Random Boy 7?” His shoulders slumped. “Are you serious?” 

Peter laughed. “It’s a step up from last year. Last time you were a table!” 

Ned grimaced and walked over to Michelle and Peter. “Yeah, you’re right. Having to stay on my hands and knees for that entire play really sucked. Dude did you see who got Sandy?” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “No. Everytime I try to look someone interrupts me—“ 

“PETER!” 

Michelle let go of Peter and laughed softly as Samrah ran up behind them. He face was all red and her hair, normally in a tidy ponytail, was streaming behind her like a black canvas. She skidded to a stop and looked at him expectantly, position her glasses on her nose.

_ She repositions those a lot and she doesn’t need to.  _ Peter thought.  _ Why does she always mess around with her glasses…?  _

“Can you look for me?” She whispered. “I’m too scared to look…” 

Peter smiled and turned around looking for Samrah’s name. His eyes widened and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. 

“Oh my god.” He breathed out. “Wow, that’s…” 

“Oh no!” Smarah squealed, tugging at her hair. “I knew it! I knew they wouldn’t cast me as  _ anything _ ! Oh, I did horrible, terrible,  _ awful _ ! They hated me! I KNEW IT! Now I’ll be embarrassed about this for the rest if my high school career!” 

Peter cringed and rushed over to calm Samrah down, who was breathing erratically. “Whoa, calm down, Sam. You didn’t do bad.” 

“I-I didn’t?” She asked.  

“Nooo! You did really good actually.” 

“What did I get?”  

Peter smiled proudly. “You and I are scene partners, Samrah. You got Sandy.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my god…” Peter said, losing his breath.
> 
> “Kid, be careful. Because these aren’t just people who were leaving their infant out for dead. These are full blown murderers who will do anything to hide her. Or to have her.”
> 
> ____
> 
> Things about to go down, y'all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Jumping into the mystery behind Samrah. Information will be unearthed and darkness is rising... WHO WILL LIVE AND WHO WILL DIE? I'm just kidding. 
> 
> ...or am I? 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter and let's see if you can predict what happens next.

Practices started the following day and Samrah was more nervous than excited. She was fumbling with the script in her fingers. 

They were doing the first scene, they called it blocking. It was when they were all on stage with their scripts and reading them out loud. This where the actors learned where to stand, how to enter, and how to exit. Samrah was up soon and she watched Peter and Michelle from afar. Oh, and Random Boy 7 Ned Leeds. She chuckled as she watched him walk up with a pout on his lips. 

“Stop pouting, Random Boy 7 Ned Leeds!” The director, Mr. Simons, teased, he had given everyone a nickname so far. “You’re supposed to be happy. You’re walking into a lunch room to see all of your friends.” 

“But...it’s not as exciting without actual food...and a table.” Ned sighed. 

The whole stage erupted into laughter. 

“That’s the point of acting, Ned!” Mr. Simons said, spreading his arms wide with a large smile on his face. “You pretend and you create. There may not be table or chairs…” His smirk widened. “Or food.” 

Chuckles danced across the stage. Peter laughed loudly, his face in the purest smile Samrah had ever seen. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the twinkle in his eyes, the bounce in his step. Seeing him so lighthearted and happy just sent her heart into a flutter. Samrah clutched her paper to her chest as she watched Peter. His smile never faded, it was like he was glowing from the inside out. She was captivated, mesmerized by the beauty of his laughter. Why was she so captured by him? 

“Samrah? Samrah With No Last Name!” 

Samrah’s attention was jerked away from Peter. 

“Y-yes?” She asked sweetly, peeking her head from behind the curtain. 

“You’re up, darling, I need my Sandy out here introducing herself with Patty.” Mr. Simons gestured for Samrah to walk out. “Stop daydreaming about our Danny, here, and get your rear in gear. ‘Cmon, don’t be shy.” 

_ You have no idea…  _ Samrah thought, blushing a bright red as she walked from behind the curtains. Her face was being covered by the script as she took her place beside Gwendolyn Smith who played Patty in Grease. Once she was at Gwendolyn’s side, she pulled her script down quickly and mumbled her lines. Catching a quick glance at Michelle who gave Samrah a studying look before smiling sweetly at her. 

Samrah froze.  _ What was that for?  _

“No, no, no, Samrah With No Last Name!”

“Huh?” Samrah asked, confused. 

Mr. Simons got up from his chair and stepped up onto the stage, his fluffy black hair bouncing as he did so. Samrah thought it looked like a poodle had laid down on his head and decided to take a nap. His hazel eyes never stopped gleaming, Mr. Simons seemed like a very happy person. She wondered what made him so happy… 

“We  do not simply mumble lines, say them loud, say them proud! How does Sandy feel at this exact moment?” He asked, coming to stand next to her. 

Samrah looked down at her script and read her line again. “Um, well. She’s unsure but excited to be making friends. The boy, Danny, whom she met during the summer is on her mind. So Sandy is a little nervous because she might have a chance to see him. She’s anxious to see him, she needs to seem him because…” 

She paused, glancing over at Peter whose mouth was open slightly, staring at Samrah with wonder. 

“Because she loves him.” 

Mr. Simons clapped his hands excitedly. “Exactly! Very good Samrah! Now, channel that into playing her character. You’ve got it down, now just show me? Yes?” 

“Yes, sir.” Samrah said politely looking back at her script and raising her voice to be carried throughout the theatre.  She let the emotions she described run through her, pulsing through her veins and cascading from her mouth. When she was done, she felt confident. A feeling she’s never felt before. It was exhilarating and when she looked around everyone was staring at her with wide eyes. Ned’s mouth nearly hit the floor and Michelle had an amused look on he face, nodding her head and smiling. 

Peter looked proud and Samrah would give the entire world to know what he was thinking right now.

Mr. Simons clapped victoriously, shouting his praise. The entire stage starting clapping for her and Samrah shrank within herself again, embarrassed by the attention she was receiving. She peeked from behind her paper at Peter who was still beaming. His eyes were so soft and kind. She thought she would get lost in them forever. 

In fact, she wouldn’t mind if she did. 

***

“How was your first practice?” Stephen asked, crossing his arms when he entered Samrah’s room. 

“It was good, everyone was impressed by my ability to act.” Samrah said sweetly, folding her clothes and placing them in her drawers. She stopped and looked back at Stephen with a concerned glint in her eyes. 

“What?” Stephen asked, watching Samrah come up to him. She fiddled with her fingers and moved her ponytail to behind her shoulders.

“How are you going to come and see me? The performance I mean…” Samrah sighed, she really wanted Stephen to go but she understood if he couldn’t. “You have to protect the Sanctum, right? The performance is in a month and I’m pretty sure that the danger won’t blow over in time…. You don’t have to go.” 

Stephen’s brow furrowed and his lips pressed together tightly. His eyes were filled with sorrow, it looked like he wanted to go too. “I know,” He whispered. “I want to go, I  _ should  _ go. Don’t worry, Samrah.” 

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll find a way to come, I promise. And if I can’t, Wong will take a video for me.” 

“It’s just not the same…” Samrah said sadly. 

“I know…” Stephen gave Samrah a quick hug before walking out with a long and tired sigh. 

Samrah watched him walk away and she couldn’t help but feel disappointment swell within her. She knew Stephen has a good reason for not coming and she understood why, she really did. She knew he couldn’t leave the Sanctum unguarded, especially with the mysterious threat hanging over Samrah. 

It was scary for her to remember, that someone wanted her dead… She hadn’t thought about it in a while, a threat like that seemed unreal, it shouldn’t exist. It shouldn’t be happening to her, it couldn’t be happening to her. 

There was no way...so she chose to ignore it. The less she thought about it, the less worried she became. There hadn’t been an attack in weeks so maybe whoever was hunting her had completely forgotten. Besides, when she was most vulnerable was when she walking to and from school. Sure, there are lots of people walking around New York but Samrah took paths where there weren’t a lot of people. So...maybe just maybe they had forgotten all about her but she could only hope because a feeling of fear and dread was beginning to swim in her gut and Samrah had to sit down to slow her beating heart.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.  _ Weird, cell reception is normally really bad in the Sanctum.  _ Samrah thought as she picked it up. She saw she had a message from Peter. Samrag smiled and opened it up. 

**_You did really good today! You impressed everyone at rehearsal._ **

Samrah smiled and decided to text back.  **_Aw, thanks, Peter! I impressed myself._ **

She waiting for his reply, a little bit too anxiously. 

**_I’m sure you did. Are you open this weekend? I’ve got no one to hang out with and you never seem all that busy. What do you think?_ **

Another day to hangout with Peter? It was dream come true! Last time they spent time with each other it was about the best time she ever had in her life. 

**_Sure! I just have to ask_ **

Samrah paused, trying to think of what to call Stephen. 

**_My dad._ ** She finished. It’s not like Stephen would be opposed to being called dad for the sake of keeping his identity out of the conversation. It’s not like he told her specifically not to tell people about him but she just assumed he would feel better if she didn’t mention his name to her friends. 

**_You never talk about your family much. What are they like?_ **

Yikes! She wasn’t expecting that! Samrah’s brain flew into a panic. What was she supposed to say? That she was an orphan? What if Peter didn’t think that was cool? What if he didn’t want to be her friend anymore because she never had real parents? 

_ No, no. Peter isn’t like that. He’s friends with you because he wants to be. Not because you’re cool. If anything, I’m the opposite of cool.  _ Samrah put her brave face on and responded, silently praying for a good reaction. 

**_I’m an orphan...or was an orphan. My parents abandoned me in a forest as an infant and I’ve been in an orphanage my whole life except for this past month. I got adopted about three weeks ago and started going to school. My new dad and I have a pretty good relationship, it’s rough in places but we’re both new to the concept of family._ **

She bit her lip and nearly cursed herself. What was she thinking? He wasn’t responding! He hated her! He didn’t want a friend without a real family, without real parents. Ugh, she was such a loser! 

Samrah buried her face in her hands trying to not cry. When she felt her phone vibrate she was too scared to look at it. With a shaking hand, she grabbed the phone and opened to message. What she saw wasn’t what she was expecting. 

**_Oh my god, Samrah. That sounds terrible. I can’t believe your parents just left you like that. And in the forest? That just makes me mad. Now I want to punch them in the face._ **

Samrah giggled. Silly, Peter. She liked it when he was protective of her, it made her feel wanted and loved. It made her feel really happy. 

**_Thanks, Peter. But I think it might be hard to punch them because nobody knows who they are or where they come from._ **

The reply came back quickly. 

**_Really? I mean...you like almost like you’re from the Middle East. Like one of your parents was from there and the other was from America. Do you know their last names?_ **

She was about to answer when she saw another text from him. 

**_Sorry, that was a dumb question. I forgot you don’t have a last name. That makes it hard to find them._ **

Samrah shook her head.  **_Why do you even want to find them?_ **

She waited.

**_I don’t know… Maybe, well, don’t you want to know who they are?_ **

**_Not really._ ** Samrah became bitter in her next reply.  **_The abandoned me to die. I don’t want to ever know about them or who they are. They basically tried to murder me._ **

**_Which is exactly why we should try and find them!_ ** Peter texted back. 

**_What?_ ** Samrah was confused. Why would Peter want to go out and find murderers? Especially her parents. People who left babies out to die were heartless, especially their baby. She didn’t  _ want  _ to know them. They didn’t deserve to know  _ her.  _

**_No. That’s basically, no not basically, that’s attempted murder, Samrah. If we can find them we could put them in jail! We could have justice! I wouldn’t have to punch them in the face. I could put them behind bars._ **

Samrah looked up from the phone in surprise. She’d never thought about it, actually, she never thought about her parents at all. She had done her best to erase any thought about the people who had left her to die as a helpless infant. A meal for any predator in the mountains of Colorado. The idea of finding them and putting them to justice didn’t sound that bad actually. It was revenge for the hellish life they put Samrah in. 

**_That doesn’t sound bad, Peter. But we’re just kids. We don’t have the resources or skills to get information like that._ ** She texted back. 

His reply surprised her again. 

**_Leave it to me, Sam. I’ve got my ways. I promise, we’ll catch them._ **

* * *

 

“You want me to do what, kid?” 

“Please, Mr. Stark?” Peter pleaded into the phone. “All I need is everything you can dig up about a girl being abandoned in a forest.” 

“ _ Where  _ in a forest, Pete? There are forests all over the globe. Saying a ‘forest’ isn’t helpful.” Tony Stark said back, irritation wearing at the edge of his voice. “I want to help but I need something better than that.” 

“Um, she said it was in Colorado.” Peter said after going into speakerphone and texting Samrah. He saw Samrah’s question about what he was doing but he ignored it. She would just have to trust him. 

“Kay,” He heard Mr. Stark say. “Where in Colorado?”

“Um, hold on.” Peter asked Samrah where and she replied, followed with another question. “Colorado Springs.” 

He heard Tony tell Friday to do a search of newspaper articles about a baby girl being found in a forest in Colorado Springs. 

“Alright, kid.” Stark sighed. “It’ll be a while until I’ve got something but I’ll call you when I do. See ya ‘round.” 

“Bye, Mr. Stark and thank you.” Peter said, about to hang up. 

“Wait, what’s her name?” Tony asked. 

“Samrah.” 

“That’s a weird name…” Peter heard Mr. Stark grumble. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter gasped. 

“Hold your britches, kid. What’s her last name?” 

“She doesn’t have one.” Peter said. 

Stark huffed in frustration. “You’ve made this really hard for me, huh?” 

Peter winced. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine but don’t get your hopes up. You might not find what you’re looking for.” Mr. Stark said. 

Peter sighed and agreed hanging up the phone. Peter texted Samrah and told her he had it covered. Samrah told him the same thing Mr.Stark told him, to not get his hopes up. He just wanted to help Samrah so badly. No one should have to go through something like that, besides, that was murder. Peter was a superhero, he was Spider-Man, he was supposed to stop people like that. What Samrah’s parents did was attempted murder and he couldn’t let it go unpunished. This was his purpose in life, why he was here, why he had these powers. 

It may not be exactly up his alley, not really his expertise, but he would help Samrah the best he could...he promised. 

***

Peter groaned loudly when he heard his phone ringing. He fumbled with his sheets and rubbed his eyes. Who would be up at this ungodly hour? 

He lazily reached over and grabbed his phone and he went from pissed off and tired to surprised and frightened. Peter quickly answered the phone when he saw it was Stark who was calling him. 

_ Of course, Mr. Stark is always up at like midnight. He’s a genius who doesn’t have time for sleep.  _ Peter thought groggily. 

“Hey…?” Peter rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned, trying his best to wake up. 

“Sorry, kid. I know it’s late but I gotta tell you something about your friend Samantha.” Mr. Stark said, rather worried from the other end. 

“Samrah.” Peter corrected. 

“Oh, yeah, right.” Stark said, hardly interested. “Anyway, this girl seems to not exist, anywhere.” 

“Huh?” 

Stark cleared his throat and continued. “I tried to search for the incident, you know, newspaper articles, police reports, filed complaints, even orphanage files but there’s nothing about her. I even checked under the right name because Friday remembered. What orphanage did she go to in Colorado?” 

“Um, I think it was God’s Little Angels in Colorado Springs, why?” 

“Kid…” Stark’s voice faded away, possibly trying to find the words. “That orphanage was burned to the ground.” 

Peter sat up in his bed. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, and I can’t find Samrah anywhere. Social media, files, reports, not even at her old orphanage in New York. She’s  _ nowhere _ .” 

“What are you saying…?” Peter asked, concern clouding his mind and his heart beginning to thrum in his ears. A feeling of prickling dread seem to set on his skin and goosebumps littered his arms. 

“I’m saying that whoever left Samrah for dead, doesn’t want her to be found out.  _ They  _ don’t want to be found out. The fire at her first orphanage wasn’t an accident. The police who investigated noticed and outside source for the start of the fire. Only Samrah and three adults survived. There were over forty people living in the building.” Tony breathed out. 

“Oh my god…” Peter said, losing his breath. 

“Kid, be careful. Because these aren’t just people who were leaving their infant out for dead. These are full blown  _ murderers  _ who will do anything to hide her. Or to have her.”

* * *

 

Samrah dried her hair with a towel, water dripping from her bare chest down to the floor. The shower had been very refreshing and had soothed her worries. Peter was really scaring her and she hoped finding her parents wouldn’t become an obsession for him. As much as she also wanted justice for her upbringing, she didn’t want him getting hurt over it. Something told her that she just shouldn’t know. Ignorance is bliss, right? 

Samrah flipped her wet hair over her back and grabbed her brush and started brushing her hair. She hummed and turned around to face her mirror. 

He heart stopped and the brush fell out of her hands...because when she turned around to look in the mirror-- It wasn’t her face that she saw. No. 

Instead, she saw the face of a horrifying demon, a face only seen in nightmares. Samrah froze, fear racing through her blood. 

“Samrah…” It whispered reaching out a hand.

And then she screamed. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She brushed her teeth and then walked out into her bedroom to change. She tried opening a drawer but paused when she found she couldn’t open it. She pulled harder, ber bare feet bracing against the wooden floor. Samrah grunted from the effort and finally gave up and frowned. She decided she should probably get Stephen to open the drawer maybe it was some weird magic malfunction in the Sanctum.
> 
> She turned to the door which was wide open. Samrah screamed when it slammed shut and she heard the lock click. She backed away from the door, her thoughts spinning in a cyclone. What the heck was going on?
> 
> “Hello, little lamb,” A voice from all around her cooed. Samrah’s heart stopped in her chest and fear settled in the depths of her stomach. “We’re not finished yet. I barely got to get a proper greeting in last night before you fainted on me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The long awaited Chapter 12! 
> 
> Chapter 13 will contain Endgame spoilers but it'll be a while until that chapter comes out. Once chapter 13 has come out, I have decided that I will update the past chapters. There will be some changes and a spoiler warning will be added to the description. Just in case. ;) If FFH does change some things, which I'm thinking it won't change much, I'll just update it once again. I'm hoping how I structured my story will help me not have to change much. It saved me before from completely re-writing this one so...fingers crossed! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Have a great day! <3

“BREAKING NEWS!”

Peter lazily glanced up at the TV, his mouth full of cereal. He tapped his spoon on the ceramic patiently as the reporter, a young girl with wavy blonde hair, appeared on screen.

“Just in now, down here at New York’s Oakley Orphanage...caretaker Mrs. Jennifer Wathson has just been brutally murdered.”

Peter nearly spit out his cereal, staring at the TV with wide eyes. Aunt May glanced over from the counter. “Wasn’t that Samrah’s orphanage?” She asked

“Yeah…” Peter said, leaning forward.

“Police reports say that Jennifer Wathson’s body has been shred almost into literal pieces. There are three children dead, all suffering the same fate. The authorities aren’t sure who committed this bloody crime scene. Most evidence has either been burned or destroyed. Stay tuned for the next—”

Peter turned off the TV his hands shaking uncontrollably. He couldn’t hear anymore, it was freaking him out too much. It sounded just like what had happened to Samrah’s first orphanage in Colorado. This couldn’t be a coincidence, it just couldn’t be. It was too similar and way too suspicious.

Peter slumped in his seat, suddenly not hungry anymore. Samrah was in serious danger and he had to protect her. But he also promised to find her parents. So if they could find who was after her, they’d most likely find her parents. It was a win win situation but with a lot of danger. A danger that he couldn’t quite understand, and that’s what made it really terrifying. Not to mention he barely knew Samrah at all.

Sure, they talked at school and sometimes after school but Samrah mostly kept stuff to herself. Peter didn’t even know where Samrah lived! She never talks about her life outside of school...in reality, Samrah was actually very mysterious, very unknown. And he had promised to dive into that unknown headfirst. What was he thinking?

Oh yeah, he wasn’t.

“You okay, hun?” May asked, walking over and rubbing Peter’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I just need to change into my clothes…” Peter lied.

Aunt May clicked her tongue impatiently. “Actually, what you meant to say was, ‘Hey, Aunt May, I’m going Spider-Man-ing. Is that okay?’ That is what you were trying to say, right?”

Peter faked a smile. “You know me so well. I’ll be back before noon, I promise.”

“You better,” she warned. “Or I’ll have Happy hunt you down.”

Pete held his arms up in surrender. “Please! Have mercy!”

May threw a pillow at his face.

Peter tugged his mask over his head, breathing in the nice, cool and crisp morning air. His eyes adjusted to the light and he popped his fingers.

“Time to go check out a crime scene.” He muttered, shooting a web against a light post a few feet away. He yanked on it and jumped, catapulting himself off the roof. “Hey, KAREN. Can you pull up directions to Oakley Orphanage?”

“Of course, Peter,” KAREN replied, already displaying a map in front of his sensors. “What are we doing today?”

Peter grunted as he halted and planted his feet on another roof. “We’re going to check out a crime scene. You up to it?”

“Of course, I was programmed with knowledge in analyzing crime scenes. I will assist you.” The AI said.

“Perfect,” He said, shooting two webs from both hands and pulling himself off to swing and the backbend over a building. Peter shot another web, using his momentum to fling him up and over a few streets.

He loved doing this, swinging from brick to brick, bouncing from building to building. It felt freeing and it made him feel special. It was something on he could do and that's why he liked it so much. Doctor Strange had a levitating cape-cloak-thing and Thor flew around with his hammer. They didn’t swing themselves through narrow alleys and barely scrape against glass windows. He had something all his own and it was exhilarating.

“All right,” Peter said, crouching down once he rolled on top of the orphanage’s roof. “Here we go. Can you document everything for later KAREN?”

“Sure.”

“Okay,” He whispered, peeking over the edge of the roof. He saw yellow tape and dark uniforms walking up and down the main sidewalk. Peter stepped back but jumped when he heard a small crack. He flipped over, hands in position to fight. When he saw no one dangerous he looked down.

His foot had dragged a long white mark, it originated from a stick of chalk. Actually, now that Peter took a step back, he saw at least three pieces of chalk. Yellow, white, and brown. When he took a few more steps back he realized he was standing on a large mural made of chalk. It was a pattern of intricate lines. The drawing was sloppy and squiggly, unsure and unpracticed. It looked like a kid had drawn it. It was weather worn and seemed to at least be a couple of years old. The shape it made looked oddly familiar so he asked KAREN to take a picture.

Peter slipped down the stairs of the roof and took his first step into Samrah’s childhood home. He immediately grimaced. It didn’t look like much, it was a very old and outdated building. He could tell by the way it smelled and by how the wood creaked underneath his feet. The wall had water stains and the paper was old and worn. There were a few scorch marks and the air smelled like ash but the top floor seemed to be the less affected by the fire. Still, he treated around with a light touch. Peter didn’t want anything to collapse on him.

He stepped over broken glass and looked to his right. Peter’s mind reeled when he saw a large, jagged hole where a window should’ve been. It was bigger than a person, bigger than anything that could be thrown by someone normal. Peter inspected the sides.

Not a single singed part of the hole? That means whoever made it didn’t use explosives...so how did the rest of the building burn? Peter traced the edges with his finger and some dust fell onto his crimson suit. He stepped back and began to walk down the hallway.

The smell of soot and ash became stronger as he walked down the barren hall. Peter kept his senses on alert, any sound or movement would spike his attention. His feet softly padded against the charred ground and he made his way down the stairs cautiously, the wooden boards creaking beneath his feet. The old copper railing was chipped with long scratches starting from the beginning of the stairs to the end. Peter cautiously stepped off of the stairs and gently opened a door to the large living room.

He stopped dead in his tracks, the sight he saw stilled the beating of his heart for a minuscule of a second before he gasped in horror. The living room was a mess, a scattered scene of blood and scorch marks. The curtains were torn burnt at the fringes and dried blood was splattered against the glass. Tables were turned and broken, snapped like twigs and furniture stuffing littered the ground like a snowy, crimson wasteland. Peter stepped over bloody tracks of human blood, smeared fingerprints, and puddles of scarlet liquid that had yet to dry. The room smelled like death and ash. Painful memories clawed from the back of his mind but he pushed them away, telling KAREN to take pictures of his surroundings.

“Who in the world would want to attack an orphanage and leave this big of a scene?” Peter said softly to himself and KAREN.

“I do not know, Peter,” KAREN replied. “Perhaps they wanted to make a spectacle?”

“Maybe,” He muttered.

His foot stepped over something that splintered quietly. He lifted his leg and took a step back. It was a photo of the entire orphanage. There were at least twenty kids, all smiling, at least from what he could make out. The picture had marks all over it, it looked like it had been drawn with a pen. There were x’s over every face in the picture but there was one person in the very far right who didn’t have an ‘x’ over her face. It was Samrah, with her head bent low and her bangs covering her face. She was wearing sunglasses...why was she wearing sunglasses? Peter’s brows furrowed in worry as his eyes traced over her body. Samrah wasn’t x’d out, in fact, she had a large circle drawn around her in red ink.

The photo’s frame fell from Peter’s fingers and shattered on the floor, glass shards spraying out in all directions.

Whoever did this to the orphanage wasn’t after the kids inside and didn’t just want to make a spectacle. They were looking for someone and hadn’t found them yet. They were looking for the person circled in red. And they made their message very clear.

  
  


Samrah woke up with a start, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. Whispers in her head dissipated into silence as she slipped out of unconsciousness. She groaned softly, rubbing her eyes and blinking the twice. Samrah had had the strangest dream, she dreamt that she saw a face in the mirror, the face of a demon that looked like her but not like her. Thank god it was only a dream.

She winced and rubbed the back of her head, feeling a growing lump.

Must’ve slept weird? She wondered, swinging her legs over her bed and touching her bare feet to the ground. Samrah warily walked over to her bathroom, peeking her head in and waving her arm in front of the mirror just in case. She sighed in relief but gasped when she saw the state her hair was in. It was a mass of knots and tangles and she sighed before grabbing the brush and combing out her rat’s nest. Once she was done, she pulled her hair in a single low ponytail swept over her right shoulder.

She brushed her teeth and then walked out into her bedroom to change. She tried opening a drawer but paused when she found she couldn’t open it. She pulled harder, ber bare feet bracing against the wooden floor. Samrah grunted from the effort and finally gave up and frowned. She decided she should probably get Stephen to open the drawer maybe it was some weird magic malfunction in the Sanctum.

 

She turned to the door which was wide open. Samrah screamed when it slammed shut and she heard the lock click. She backed away from the door, her thoughts spinning in a cyclone. What the heck was going on?

_ “Hello, little lamb,”  _ A voice from all around her cooed. Samrah’s heart stopped in her chest and fear settled in the depths of her stomach. “We’re not finished yet. I barely got to get a proper greeting in last night before you fainted on me.”

The lights in her room flickered and sputtered before sparking out. The curtains closed on their own, bathing Samrah in the darkness of her own bedroom. She stumbled around her room, looking for the light switch as a rush of freezing cold air brushed against the back of her neck. Samrah’s hair stood on end as she flipped around, her arms shaking. It was completely dark in her room, she couldn’t see a thing and it terrified her.

A soft female voice cackled and their voice echoed all over her bedroom. Goosebumps littered Samrah’s skin as she bit back whimpers of terror. Something that felt like a hand cupped her cheek and eyes as bright as flames stared back at her through the pitch black. Samrah’s breath hitched in her chest and fought against the tears that threatened to spill down her face.

_ “Why are you so scared, little lamb? I am you after all.”  _ The eyes then gave way to a body, Samrah’s body but not her own. The eyes were her’s as red and orange as fire but they were slitted like a cat’s and they retracted and grew with each breath the specter blew that Samrah never felt.

“You’re not me…” Samrah breathed out, her voice betraying her.

_ “How so? Do I not look exactly like you? What makes you so sure?” _

Samrah gulped, controlling her shaking nerves. “B-because...I-I don’t sound like I come from England.”

The specter laughed. It was a slippery and haughty laugh that slid through Samrah’s ears like water.  _ “You separate us through my accent? Oh, Samrah, you’re cleverer than that. You know who I am.” _

“No, I d-don’t. I don’t -kn-know who you are!” Samrah cried out, covering her head and falling to her knees. “Please, leave me alone!”

_ “I can’t do that, Samrah.” _ The specter said, kneeling down to Samrah’s level and forcing her head to look up. Tears spilled out of the corner of Samrah’s eyes as pitiful sobs escaped her lips.

“Please let this be a dream, please let this be a dream, please let this be a dream…” Samrah whispered over and over, trying to wish the demon away. Instead, it just caressed her face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It hushed Samrah softly, pulling her against it’s cold and spectral body.

_ “You know this isn’t a dream, little lamb. You can’t wake up from reality. I will always be with you. Even when you die.” _ The demon placed a kiss on Samrah’s forehead before disappearing and leaving Samrah to rub the ice from her arms. She shivered and flinched when the lights flickered back on and the curtains flew open. The door creaked on its hinges as it unlocked and revealed the hallway outside.

Samrah pulled her knees close and rocked back and forth, sobbing into her jeans.

  
  


“You’ve been really quiet this morning, Samrah,” Stephen commented as he forked his eggs absentmindedly. “Are you okay? When you walked down here you looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine…” Samrah whispered, poking at her eggs and toast.

Stephen sighed and Samrah caught him sending a worried glance Wong’s way. Wong stood up from the table with his buttered toast and orange juice, taking a crunchy bite before walking away and into the kitchen separated from the dining room.

Only the sound of silverware clinking on porcelain plates could be heard between Samrah and Stephen. He fidgeted before clearing his throat and setting down his fork.

“So, how’s the play going?” He asked, trying to spark conversation.

“It’s fine.” She responded, pushing her plate away from her gently. “I’m not very hungry...I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” Stephen said, making the plates disappear and the sound of splashing water was heard from the kitchen. Followed by a yelp of surprise from Wong. “Are you sure you’re fine? Because from over here, you don’t look fine.”

Samrah nodded, not wanting to look him in the eyes. If she did, she might cry. She didn’t like lying to Stephen about this--about anything really. Samrah tried to lie as little as possible unless it was for the wellbeing of a friend. The face in the mirror and the eyes in the dark of her room haunted her silently. The voice whispered in her ear, repeating one thing over and over.

_ “I’m coming, little lamb.” _

“Leave me alone!” Samrah shouted, standing up, the last strands of her sanity breaking.

Something shattered in the kitchen and Stephen looked up at Samrah in surprise. Samrah, just realizing what she had said, mumbled an apology and walked quickly out of the room. She rushed up the stairs and was about to disappear into her room but decided it against. Considering what happened the last time she was in her room. Instead, Samrah ran up the second flight of stairs and was about to go out to the roof but something made her stop.

The voice in her ear had disappeared, replaced the by the calming whispers that had plagued her dreams only months before. Samrah remembered those whispers. They had been in the abyss of the Sanctum’s magical strands. They had been calling out to her, were calling out to her. 

She turned around and saw a spiral staircase to her left. Samrah’s eyes traced the railing of the stairs and saw that it looked like it led to another floor.

The third floor? She wondered in her mind as she drifted closer. The whispers in her head pulled her forward with a sense of urgency. She still couldn’t make out what they were saying but it definitely sounded like they wanted her to go up the stairs. Her fingernails traced the railing and goosebumps ran up her arm as she made her way up the stairs. The stairs didn’t make a sound which was surprising considering every other stairway in the Sanctum was extremely noisy. The Sanctum was a very old place, at least that’s what Stephen told her.

Samrah paused. Stephen also told her that the third floor was off limits. The whispers turned into shouts as their urgency turned into emergency. Samrah ran up the stairs with her ears plugged, trying to escape the voices in her head.

Once she reached the top floor she was surprised to see how small it was. She unplugged her ears, the whispers fading away. Samrah continued to inspect the room.

There was only room for a bookcase, a small desk, a sofa, and a couple of cabinets. The walls were barren, plated with thick oak wood the wrapped the entire base of the room. Samrah fingered the books on the bookshelf. Nothing in this room was dusty like someone came in and cleaned it every day but Samrah had never seen anyone come up here. She turned her attention to the desk. There was a small wooden box on the desk with golden symbols marking the sides. There was no lock on the box, just an empty hole. Samrah picked up the box, turning it over on every side. It felt so light like nothing was in it.

Shivers ran down Samrah’s spine as the whispers in her head got louder and louder, their pleas and cries turning into one word.

_ Open. _

Her finger trailed the edge of the box, fingering the bottom of the lid.

_ “Open it, little lamb. Open it.” _

Samrah lifted the lid, bright light of orange casting against her face. She gasped softly, looking in wonder at what was inside the box. A single and small flame was in the wooden box, it burned brightly but never gave off any heat. Samrah slowly touched the flame with her hand. The flame grew and licked at her hand, spreading its flower-like tips against her palm. Samrah giggled, pulling the flame in her palm out of the box. It never stung her it just felt...warm.

_ “That’s it, little lamb. Touch the flame, fulfill our destiny.” _

“What are you doing?!”

Samrah flipped around, the fire still lit in her hand. Wong was standing at the staircase, a cold and calculating look in his eye. He crossed his arms, looking at Samrah accusingly.

“I-I--” Samrah started, putting the flame back in the box. “I’m sorry, I just… Was I not allowed?”

“Wong?”

Samrah froze, hearing Stephen’s voice from down the stairs.

“Where are you?”

“Up here,” Wong said. “Come up.”

Samrah quickly shut the box and placed it back on the desk. Wong came up behind Samrah with a blank look on his face. He took the box and opened a drawer in the desk and put the box in there. He took a small key out and locked the drawer. Stephen was up the stairs soon after, looking around the room before his eyes landing on Wong and Samrah.

He narrowed his eyes and bit his lip sternly. “I gave you three rules, Samrah. What was that last rule?”

“I know but--”

“No! There’s no ‘but’ about it!” Stephen shouted at her angrily. Samrah tucked her shoulders up to her ears, looking away. “You disobeyed the only three rules I gave you. You went up to the floor that even I haven’t been to yet. He,” Stephen stabbed a finger at Wong who was standing behind. “Wouldn’t let me until just now.”

“I’m sorry,” Samrah whispered, her head hanging low.

Stephen sighed sadly, his shoulders slumping. “I know, Samrah. I’m worried about you. You haven’t been talking all day, you yelled at me to ‘leave you alone’, and then you ran away to the one place in the Sanctum I told you to stay away from. What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Samrah nodded her head and Wong patted her on the shoulder. “We’re not mad at you, Samrah.” He said, bending down to look Samrah in the eye. “But you did, what you touched, was very dangerous. Do you know what that was?”

Samrah shook her head ‘no’. Wong looked up at Stephen who sent a shrug back at him.

“That,” He explained, gesturing to the drawer where he locked up the box. “Was an ancient power that only, until nine years ago, had been running rampant in other dimensions. Destroying them from the inside and out.”

“What did she have?” Stephen asked since he clearly didn’t understand what Wong was talking about.

“The Eternal Flame.”

“The what?” Samrah and Strange both asked at the same time.

Wong spun his hands around, creating a vortex of light and color until it formed into a young man dressed in robes. “The Eternal Flame. It’s an ancient power that was created by the first sorcerer. It is a fire that never burns out, it consumes everything in its path and is said to be hotter than the sun.” He moved his hands and the sorcerer held a tiny flame in his hand, soon, it expanded and consumed the entire demonstration. Wong lowered his arms.

“But it didn’t feel hot to me at all,” Samrah said sheepishly, glancing briefly at the drawer.

Wong’s brows furrowed. “That’s what worries me. No one has been able to hold the flame since it’s creator died. Ever since, it has been uncontained, jumping from dimension to dimension, consuming everything and everyone in its path. It has a never satisfying hunger. The Ancient One was barely able to store it in that box before it destroyed our world.”

“Then why is it in my Sanctum instead of the bottom of an ocean?” Stephen asked, his eyes glittering with curiosity.

“The Ancient One didn’t want it getting into the wrong hands. So she stored it here where she could trust people to watch over it. You weren’t supposed to see it until you became Sorcerer Supreme.” Wong noted.

Samrah saw Stephen grumble and shift uncomfortably but he didn’t say anything more.

“Can you not touch it, Wong?” Samrah asked, looking up at Wong with wide eyes.

“No, I would be dead within seconds.” He said.

Samrah reached up to her cheek touched her lower eyelid cautiously. “D-do you think that’s why my eyes are so… Weird?”

“I don’t know,”

Stephen huffed. “Well, I don’t know about you Wong but I think Samrah needs a punishment for breaking the most important rule. I’m thinking...ground her for a week. That means no phone, no friends(except for school), and no musical.”

“What?!” Samrah shrieked, her head turning quickly to watch Strange walk down the stairs. “You can’t keep me from the musical! That’s so unfair--”

“No, it’s not--”

“TO MY CASTMATES, STEPHEN,” Samrah stated, exasperated. “You can’t pull me out when I’m the main character and need to be there for blocking and direction! That’s not fair to them or my director.”

“Okay, fine, but something else has to go.” Stephen finally agreed, stopping at the base of the staircase. “No magic. Which means you have to give me your ring.”

“Glasses?” Samrah asked, reaching in her pocket to produce the magical glasses that hid the unique color of her eyes.

He shook his head. “You need those but I’ll have the ring please.”

Samrah bit her lip and reluctantly handed the ring over to Stephen. He took it and used his magic to snuff it away to somewhere she probably wouldn’t find it. She rubbed her finger, noticing how weird it felt to not have the ring with her. She’d never been without. It felt wrong not having it on her person and Stephen most likely knew that which was why it was a fair punishment

“Now, go to your room, please,” Stephen said firm yet soft. “Wong and I have some...talking to do.”

Samrah nodded, rubbing her finger and sulking over to her room.

She shut the door to her room and sank to the floor, angry tears pricking at her eyes. Why couldn’t she just do this right? She just broke the most important rule Stephen gave her and held one of the most dangerous artifacts in history. Not to mention she was keeping a secret from Stephen. How could she tell him about the strange figure that stalking her in the morning and haunted her at night? How could she tell him about the voices that whispered things in her head?

_ “Not to worry, little lamb.” _ Something traced Samrah’s jawline and she froze in place.  _ “You’ll understand soon enough that there’s always a price to pay for destiny.” _


End file.
